#and so if you're given the opportunity to take out your enemy in one fell swoop you'd want to!

[imissthembutitwasntadisaster]

Maybe "do any of you know what treason is?" "I know what torture is" is the true heart of the show

[imasimpforstevengrant]

THRICE (Chapter 2)

Summary:

Second telling of Marc Spector and his personal struggles. Feeling free for the first time in his life, Marc Spector relishes in the joys of the flesh alongside Layla.

Author's note: this takes place immediately after the last episode. A lot of lines are taken from the first volume of Moon Knight, when Marc meets Marlene in Egypt. Fluff, reconciliation and smut with feelings ahead. Enjoy.

WC: 5.722

ECHOES (PART II)

Marc counted three angsty days where he stood in guard, looking for her. He had been unable to sleep since he had seen her picture. Her sweet smile haunts him every sleepless night, which prompts him to silently beg for forgiveness.

But the worst thing was returning to the place where this crusade against evil had started: there were plenty of corpses surrounding the area, some of them near weapons, others near the bonfires. Marc ran through the darkness, like an evil entity.

Those he encountered in his way met a gruesome end. If they didn't cooperate, it was worse. Only one was wise enough to let slip another piece of information: she always moved at night. Marc looked at his surroundings. He would never forgive himself if something happened to her.

Suddenly, he heard gunshots. Marc realized it was the same platoon from that fateful night, but now they were after an intruder in the cold sand. It was a hooded figure, who soon fell to the ground.   

As soon as the man ripped the hood, a curly mane and a feminine face warned him about her identity.  

Marc's heart almost stopped beating. 

The mercenary took the small bag she carried, full of relics. This served as the ultimate evidence of her antics. The man announced with a loud scream that it was, indeed, Layla El-Faouly. Bushman smiled with perverse satisfaction, taking a rifle while distancing himself from his group.

"I know who you are," Layla spat defiantly , "villagers speak about you with fear."  

The executioner came closer to her, but much to his surprise, Layla showed to be a skilled fighter, resisting to be reduced. However, her small form didn't avoid being stunned  by a man who later dragged her to the camp. Bushman took her face aggressively, mocking her antics and gesturing to his convoy to form an improvised fire squad pointing at her.

The cruel -and downright coward - move made Marc howl like a beast, like a warning. Never in his life he would forget the petrified expressions on their faces. He didn't think twice to fly towards the area, throwing the sharp moon darts to a few, tackling the ones still standing. 

"Look out!" He screamed, snatching her from the ground. Everything had been so fast that she didn't even protest. Marc locked the woman in his arms while shielding her with his body from the bullets. He heard the voices shouting to leave, ceasing the fire. Marc then took the opportunity to fly away with her.

As soon as they reach the ground, near the raided temple, hostility is all the former mercenary receives. Marc gives her the space she needs, for her to become comfortable. She looks for shelter behind a column partially devoured by a dense, almost hellish darkness. 

"Who are you?" She hissed in Arabic.

"I'm not your enemy" Marc abandons any defensive posture to gain her trust. His armour fades away in swirling bandages, leaving his usual navy blue shirt, khaki pants and heavy boots for her to see. 

"You're not Egyptian," she muttered, stepping back. 

"No, I'm American" he whispered, "I didn't mean to scare you…"

Her look was pure outrage, but Marc wasn't offended by her ferrous self defense. He found it impressive, given his status as a supernatural vigilante.

Marc tried to get closer to her, but Layla just trembled, huddling against the wall. 

"You're dressed like them!" She frowned, though now terror slowly took over her face, "people like you murdered my father!" 

"You're wrong" 

But Marc knew she was speaking the truth… in a certain way. 

"Did they offer you a lot of money for me, right?"

"Listen… I know it's crazy, I understand your distrust, but if we don't cooperate, you'll end up dead!"

"Are my chances better with a hooded, killing ghost at my side?!"  

Before Marc could say anything, a gust of bullets obliged them to get down. Layla ran to hide in the dark, accompanied by a gun. Not letting fear dominate her senses, the archeologist proved to be an incredible marksman. He bought her some time, clearing the way. The golden darts pierced heads, scoundrels that tried to shoot her from distance. But Marc felt the situation was slipping through his fingers when two men cornered her. 

Then he suddenly blacked out.

All he could remember were the wet, creeks of blood all splattered over his face, dripping down his neck. His back hurt and later on, he realised he had been stabbed. A sepulchral silence follows, his fists had chunks of smashed skulls… just like that night.

Such a pity that immortality did not mean being immune to pain. Like a macabre payback, the pain just seemed greater. He almost tripped, supporting himself over a carved, rectangular rock. His chest goes up and down slowly, watching carefully that the broken rib didn't puncture the lung.   

The memory triggered a startled jolt. The irrational fear of uncontrolled violence claiming innocent victims sieges his mind. He turned around, panicked. All he found were executioners scattered over the sand. 

A weak moan of pain dissipated the panic, leading him to pay attention to his right. Layla was weakly trying to get up, taking steps towards the doorless fate to finally exit, not bothering to even talk to him. Marc couldn't sense any other feeling in her face that wasn't anger and contempt. He thought it was poetic justice for his involvement with a war criminal, whose greed had cost numerous innocent lives. 

He attempted to talk, but he knew it would be futile. The broken rib was too much for him to handle without remaining silent. A whimper resonates in the air. 

A few seconds passed and, against all odds, he felt a rushed jogging. Marc lifts his head, gasping as he finally had a closer look to those dark, deep eyes. 

"I can't believe it! You took these men out by yourself!" she rushed to see if he had a mortal wound. Marc would never forget how the expression morphed from fear to worry, as moonlight revealed his bloodstained hands.

"Yeah" he gasped, placing his hand over hers once it reached his heart, "but… Bushman has escaped. I wanted his blood…" he almost confesses the truth about her father. 

"You saved me, and you're alive. Nothing else matters" Marc Spector experiments a soaring euphoria when the recently rescued archeologist holds him so both can reach the exit. 

He groans in pain, stopping for a moment. 

"I want to know the name of my saviour," she whispered, cleaning the blood in his face with water, which she stored in a canteen. The former mercenary took it to drink it, quenching the thirst. 

"Spector. Marc Spector."

The soldier felt tempted to kiss those pink, full lips. But another question vanishes his desires.

"Who do you work for? How do you know me?" 

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you… It's a long story…" he chuckled.

"We'll have plenty of time if we get out of here."

Marc didn't say a word. He just enjoyed the silence, slightly broken by their breathing. He wondered how it would sound… in another situation. Marc palmed his forehead, daunting the intrusive thought.

"I'm sorry for what I said… about you being a murderer…"

The former mercenary gulped. 

"I wouldn't be any different from that murderer if I wished you death."

"I don't blame you," he forgot the night and stars as he got lost in her deep eyes. In his heart, a feeling is nesting. An unknown, strange - but pleasant- feeling causes his belligerent ways to give in. For the first time in so many years, before the horror that started him as a killer, he saw a glimpse of hope. Abandoning his defenses serves as a soporific relax to his mind, especially when her fingers reach his neck to cleanse the remaining blood. 

An open wound near his jugular startles him. A pained groan scrapes his throat. She recoils her hand, fearful.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to–" Marc quickly shook his head, setting aside any fear of being hurt. With some difficulty, he lifts one hand to place it over her shoulder. Marc shudders when she doesn't reject him, instead showing an astounding responsiveness, giving him a puzzled, yet immensely compassionate gaze, as if she had an idea of the eternal chaos corroding his mind. 

"Your name… I want to know your name," Marc weakly muttered. He knew that slipping her name would raise suspicion. It was better to play ignorant this time, so this precious moment wasn't ruined. 

"Layla…" she replied, not taking her gaze off him, "say it!"

He couldn't. 

Seconds later, the most wonderful thing happened: Her arms surrounded his neck, engulfing him into a tight embrace. There was such legitimate, unspoken gratitude in tender gesture. It reminded him that, even if he was now a caped crusader, he was still Marc Spector. He felt so high with her smell, hiding his face in her neck. The embrace Layla gifted him that day they met reminded him of his humanity. 

Maybe being the daughter of a victim of his own doing paved the path to redemption.

Marc could feel it in his veins, letting this silent mirth slowly taking over his mind. Intoxicated by the promise of love, Spector glides his hands over her back and much to his surprise, Layla tightened her grip around his neck, to which he gladly consented. 

Soon, he locked the delicate waist in his arms, feeling the feminine form against his body, enticed by this new contact that didn't end with broken noses, bleeding chests or mauled limbs. 

But exhaustion overcame his strengths, fainting into her arms. It wasn't bad, for a dead man.   

-----

Khonshu had granted him breath. 

Layla gave him the desire to live. He had always been a slave, first of his mind, and then… Khonshu.

Though he deeply resented it, he had resigned himself to his condition. But Layla changed things. She loved Marc, and also loved Moon Knight. 

She's the only one who can look him in the eye and feel calm, in contrast to an evildoer. The only one who can come closer to him, covered in blood, to throw herself to his arms, ending both naked in the bed screaming each other's names. It was the best part. 

The happiness lasted for a few years, before the madness took over his life. He then realized that nothing with a horrifying beginning could end well. 

First, this newfound love didn't go unnoticed for Khonshu, who regarded his affection as a distraction of his purpose. Marc dared to speak defiantly against him. But that wasn't the hardest thing. 

Then, if hiding the truth about her father wasn't enough, Marc also hid his mental illness. Dissociative identity disorder, more precisely. All his life, the ghost of an abusive home and an unfeeling, rancorous mother, had led him to shield himself with alternative personalities which Layla would never know about. It gnawed at his sanity with self deprecating thoughts about being unworthy of Layla's love, for being an indirect responsible for his death, for being a liar. 

There were so many things she didn't know about him, because of shame.

But misery doesn't stop there. In pursuit of evil, people tend to step away from what is good. Khonshu was no exception. Love was so powerful, and Marc Spector is specially subdued by it. The deity always found his fragile, broken mind as a gift and his love for her wasn't seen as a distraction anymore, but as an asset to use to his favor. A silent conspiracy contrives to make Marc Spector the perfect vessel for justice.

Being in the middle of a conflict that could destroy the world, Khonshu decides to tear apart Marc's relationship with Layla. The threat of his wife replacing him as his avatar was really useful to push him to push her away. 

A pained realization dawns on him: to protect her must hurt her, he couldn't bring himself to cause her any more harm. It was easier to disguise it as estrangement, for her to hate him and so severe contact without a sorrowful farewell.

It was so painful to masquerade his suffering like estrangement, pretending he wanted the divorce when all he wanted was to protect her. He left one day, without explanation. 

Elias Spector called him to tell him Wendy Spector had died. The one person who had made his life a living hell had ceased her existence. Marc refused the kind offer of his father to get into the house.

Marc Spector broke down crying, falling to his knees and hitting the kippah several times against the ground. He then, with great regret, held it against his chest, rocking himself to ease the pain. He recovered his breath, kippah still in hand. Something went out of control. 

And then he was Steven Grant. 

------

He was back in bed, foot still tied with that restraint. Rain poured outside, numberless droplets fell, leaving countless watery traces down the window. Marc sets his gaze on the aquarium, whose two gold fishes swim in silent, harmonious coexistence. 

This unusual calmness sent him into another state of unreality. His distorted senses lead him out of the bed, minding the tied ankle. Releasing himself from it, he takes a look at everything that surrounds him. Marc realizes he wasn't covered in blood. There were no more unexplained wounds this time, no monsters to fight, no Harrow or Bushman. 

Just silence. 

He wandered over the flat, not minding his nakedness. Marc felt safe… and certain unease. He slid the tip of his fingers over the small library he had built as Steven Grant, surprised at himself at the amount of books on a big desk, with a couple of Rubik cubes so he could keep himself distracted from stress.

He kept checking the place, reaching a table. Above it was a bulky gym bag, full of money, his American passport with his real name, guns and ammo. Next to the left, almost hidden at plain sight, were the divorce papers. 

Marc fights back the chuckles, but these abruptly end when a muffled yawn breaks the silence. He turned back to the bed. The flannels started moving. The ghostly aspect scares Spector for him to jolt, which in turn, causes his wife to reveal herself. The curly haired beauty looked back at him. 

"Marc? What are you doing there? Come back to bed." 

He held his breath. This time Layla got up, seeing his unresponsiveness. Marc didn't move an inch, fearful to make a wrong move that could make this dreamlike feel fade away. While heading her steps closer, Layla put on one of Steven's many oversized sweaters. 

"You forgot to put some clothes on, huh?" She whispered but he brought her closer to him, embracing her. Her giggles give him life. 

"What's gotten into you, Marc?" She threw her arms to his neck. The former mercenary pressed his mouth against hers.

"You." Layla half closes her eyes, giving him a playful stare. 

"Don't think you'll distract me with that… Why are you not in bed with me? Please tell me. We promised to not keep any more secrets."

Marc held her face.

"It's because you… me… back together. It's more than I thought I could get."

She placed a curly hair lock behind his ear.

"All this–'' Marc looks around, nervously stammering, "the silence– the freedom, you… This is all I wanted, Layla. It feels so unreal" he shook his head, overwhelmed. She quickly cupped his cheeks to ease his mind. 

"I got you. We can handle this together" Layla cooed.

"There are so many things I wish I could tell you… but I don't know– I'm afraid you won't believe me."

Layla rolled her eyes, scoffing. 

"Well, you got resurrected by an Egyptian God, I became the avatar of Taweret for a short time,  we stopped Ammit and Harrow before they could cause a global catastrophe. Nothing seems unbelievable anymore."

Marc lowered his head, ashamed. 

"You can tell me."

"I thought you didn't want any explanation from me after everything I kept from you."

"Things have changed. Besides, Taweret told me my father is in the field of Reeds." 

Marc's face beams with a hopeful expression. 

"She also told me you did all you could to save him before Bushman killed him."

"I would have given my life to save him, Layla. My partner… My partner got so greedy and–" Marc took a deep breath, fighting back the sobs, "I thought at first he was going to raid a military area, but there were just civilians. Unarmed civilians'' he covered his face, guilt causing his eyes to burn with remorseful tears, "then… then I met you… and I wanted to tell you the truth, from the beginning. But I couldn't."

Layla nodded. Marc held her hands and kissed them through the tears. He then took her sweater off, bringing her body against his. Marc sighs relieved when feels her bare chest against his. 

"You protected me and you were gone so fast I couldn't believe it. Seeing your body over that pool–" she remembers the silent, short goodbye with a furtive kiss on his forehead. The memory of it caused Layla to tighten the grip around his neck. Her words are a balm, and now Marc feels tears of joy bathing his cheeks.

"I never stopped loving you, Marc."

"Me neither, baby…" He explodes, desperately kissing the side of her neck, sliding his fingers over the skin of the nape. Marc nuzzled into her shoulder, like a needful feline. He took a deep breath. 

Why was it easier to express desire than to express a feeling? How could he start to put in words a suffering that was indescribable? How could he open up about the matter that carved the idea of unworthiness regarding Layla's love and caring?

"You didn't sign the papers when you sent them to me," Layla reminds him and Marc can't be more grateful with Steven for not signing the documents. 

"I don't want to divorce you! I never wanted to! Those lonely nights, without you… longing for your touch. I felt I was a living dead, that I just lived to serve Khonshu…" He held her body as if his life depended on it. 

Layla gladly allows his hands to roam over her curves, as if exploring them for the first time. Marc feels the arousal boiling his blood. 

"I couldn't put an end to us… I couldn't bring myself to sign them. I can't be away from you again" his voice was full of regret. She felt the hot tears running down her shoulder, "I won't survive it."

Layla caressed his back, moved by how much he actually loved her. Giving his life was one thing. But baring his soul was another. Harrow's voice resounds in her mind, concerning the truth about Marc.

"He's in agony. In more pain than anyone could bear."

Much to her surprise, her husband lets an angry hiss escape his mouth. 

"You know what? Fuck this." Marc turned around urgently. He grabbed the paper furiously to throw them into the bin. Layla hummed, approving what she saw. 

"I don't want to wake up covered in blood anymore."

"Then what is it that you want?" Layla asked seductively. Marc ran his hands up and down her waist. 

"I want my wife to make love to me."

Layla grabbed his hand to carry him to bed. Once she turned her back on him, Marc held her passionately, kissing her neck and then panting against her ear. 

"I missed you… I missed your body" Marc glides both hands over her breasts, squeezing and fondling the orbed forms carefully, "it's been so long…" 

Layla gasped as she felt his hands lowering down her waist, growling like a hungry beast when his fingers parted her thighs, obtaining her intimacy. She helped to spice things up by spreading them wider. Marc hummed, approving what he saw. 

"I'm not made of stone, Layla," he joked. 

"But you surely are cold like one" she giggled but Marc impatiently grazed her flesh with his fingers, eliciting loud moans that sent him to the edge.

"Does this seem too cold for you, wife?" 

She stiffened her spine as the arousal spread over her femininity, numbing her thighs, making it more difficult to stand. But Marc is strong, holding the trembling form in his arms, labouring on behalf of her pleasure. 

Layla looks down, delighted at the hands rummaging through her moistened intimacy. She moaned, lolling her head back when her hand joined him to work to her satisfaction in perfect tune.  

"You really are in the mood, are you?" Layla chuckled, just before Marc covered her mouth with his. Famished kisses made their lips worn out, becoming more intense as Marc lays her down the bed, having her at his mercy like he loves to. 

On any other night, Marc would be busy feeling cartilages and bones crushed under his knuckles. There is something narcotic about placing himself above her without malicious intent, no more terrified faces, no more blood staining his hands or conscience.

Placed on the bed with utter care, Layla sets her hands beside her head, conceding Marc her wholeness. The former mercenary marvels at her divine nudity, tilting his head while deciding what to do or where to touch.

Layla doesn't say anything. She loves her perspective, which allows her eyes to behold Marc's boyish beauty. She glides her fingers in his neck, loving the harsh lines on it. He smiled as they descended on his chest, moving him to mimic the action, though with a difference. 

Marc placed himself above her completely. Layla looked up to him when she sensed a caress in her abundant mane. Her eyelids flutter, provoking him to take intimacy to another level. He stares at her, hypnotized by her unusual beauty, in those beautiful freckles over her nose and cheeks, her soft, golden skin. 

Cherishing his wife with his eyes wasn't enough now, which moved him to touch her chest, tracing invisible long lines that soon went over her waist and belly. 

Layla twists her spine over the white, still warm sheets, body yearning for his attention. She slowly spreads her legs, proud of how her sensuality crumbles his usual coldness, proven by his eager, impatient expression on his face. 

"Show me how you did it while I was away," Marc demanded.

"Do what?" Layla teases him, despite knowing what. 

Marc looked at her glistening womanhood.

"Touch yourself," He hissed, staring at the part exposed for him. The former mercenary licked his lips as her hand made her way between her legs. 

Layla closed her eyes, whispering his name, remembering those painful nights when the memory of his touches was all she had. Her euphonious sounds just made him harder and harder once she circles the small nub, hidden like a pearl. She was sweating, curls sticking to her face while pressing her head against the pillow. 

"Marc… please…" Layla begged, fighting the cramps in her legs to gain stillness. 

"Please what? I wanna hear you say it." Marc demanded it to convince himself this was real. 

"I want you deep inside of me, Marc" she whispered between moans, stopping for a moment, "I want it—" but Spector continued, much to her surprise.

"There…there…" Layla mouthed, rolling her eyes. 

"Yes?" 

"Oh, God– Marc!" Layla couldn't keep talking as her husband increased his attention on her intimacy, causing her to ragingly rear up, "I want it …dripping off me."

Marc grinned, too proud of himself. He refocuses on the wet, silky folds first, as if becoming familiar once again with the part he longed so much to be wrapped around. Layla supported herself on her elbows briefly, desperately looking for something to cling to. Her body violently jolted again, now turned into a nervous mess when her legs became numb, leading to a sharp contrast with the excessive sensitivity forming in her delicacy. 

"Marc! Marc– I'm close– so clo—" but he didn't let her finish, since a predatory move had him pouncing over her sex, catching the twitchy pinkness with his mouth, carefully tugging it. 

Spector would never forget the violent spasm shaking Layla's body, trapping him between her thighs. Neither would he forget those loud and mellifluent cries for him.  

"You're sweet in every way" he whispered before tasting the nectar eagerly, giving her hips a bruisy grip, doing his best to obtain every drop. She ruffled his hair as Marc detaches his lips for a moment from the tender, silky privacy just to sink his nose in her moistened entrance. Layla feels hot tears running down, wanting those thick, raven curls to uncoil in her fingers while frolicking with them.

His chuckles vibrate through her tremulous form, amazed by her futile attempt to increment the friction, caressing her thighs and well knowing his touches would leave her ruined. 

And he loves it. 

The routine was thrilling and alluring, motivating him to grant her wish. Marc impatiently crawled up like a feline, watching the dumb smile tracing his wife's lips as she recovered her breath after such pleasure devastated her capacity to think or say anything coherent. 

"Perfect," he knew the magnitude of her joy when Layla (apparently) didn't realize she was about to get her wish granted. 

It only made it better. 

Marc positioned himself behind her, heedfully turning her body around so his limbs would imprison his wife, holding her against his chest. He panted like an animal and Layla can feel his breath in her ear. Marc slowly lifts her leg, teasing her burning folds with his rigid manhood before guiding himself in. 

That finally made Layla react, stiffening her back as her vocal expressions echoed louder. Marc rejoices when she shifts her hips, rubbing herself against him to get more of this addictive, intoxicating friction. 

"You're gonna be my good girl," Marc growls, licking her neck. 

"I'll be!" Layla desperately whines, "I'll be good, Marc! I beg you—" 

His toothy grin gives her enough air to verbalise her wish. 

"I want you!" She screamed through her tears, "please! Please!"

The former mercenary made his way inside of her through a fervent move. For a moment, he felt his heart forgot how to beat as her wet, warm walls held him captive. Marc didn't move. Layla didn't complain, choosing to focus on the sharp feeling of being fully filled by him.  

"One of these nights you're gonna drive me crazy too," Layla sensually whispered but her playful tease just incited him to give her a sharp thrust.

"Quite frankly… I hope so" he grunted, overcoming the initial trance to enjoy how she adjusted at his intrusion, reaching a spot her fingers could never reach.

His whole body yearns for her. Layla knows it well. She knows so well that part of him, how his despair was disguised as dominance. His kisses now cover her forehead, her cheek and her lips, once she turns around. Everything in her screams life and Marc longs to feel his wife stirring under his touch, sick of this hurtful abstinence. Their act proves that he is not a living sarcophagus, sinking his nose in her dark mane he missed so much during his self imposed solitude, delighted in those sounds that made her skin vibrate. 

Layla rocks her hips, shivering when his hand reaches the spot where both were tightly joined.  

"You really are enjoying this, do you?" Layla smirked, coquettishly rubbing her foot on his calf. 

He loved her smile, invigorating him to explore her intimacy at a faster pace, soft sobs that ended in desperate praises as a result of it. Layla repeats his name over and over again, while dealing with the intense pleasure his unmerciful pace caused her. He silences his frantic, uncontrolled moans through a bite, squeezing her breast. 

"Again," Layla demands. He granted her wish. It only managed to make her more tense around him. Marc twitches excitedly inside of her, sensing the climax coming closer.

He stopped for a moment, catching his breath. Making her hair aside, he contemplates the reddened zone, whose vestige accuses his action. Such pleasurable soreness reminded him that he was no stranger to pain. 

Marc had become so familiar with the suffering since the death of his brother, the hatred of his mother and the abandonment of his father that he felt that he only lived to suffer, serve and bleed. His fearsome and unstable mettle had earned him a reputation as a man he couldn't be messed with.  

That was another facet, another mask to hide his misery, accustomed to the horror of military violence under the relentless Middle Eastern sun. 

The echo of voices chanting his name during clandestine fights reverberated in his brain. He remembered his nose, broken and bleeding, but always standing victorious over whoever was his opponent. Marc believed that he would die with bullets through his chest or by shooting himself in the head. Even when he was second-in-command with Bushman, not even the large sums of money made him happy.

Until Layla appeared in his life.

Marc fought those thoughts of her by thrusting harder and harder inside her, loving her without words, maddened with pleasure as he felt Layla welcome him eagerly. He remembered the night he had met her, that embrace that started it all… the first time he had given himself to her.

Love. Layla. Every night had the same exciting ending. What was not to love about this? Both lying on the bed, dissolved in each other's bodies. Marc needed to love her with an inordinate passion, delighting in those curves, quivering in his presence. The nights with her gave his madness a special air. He felt that so much love could actually hurt him but it was something he would gladly accept.

He wanted to tell her so many things as he possessed her, reliving those intimate moments more vividly, knowing that now Marc could be himself with her no matter how fucked up he was. 

Moved by the desire to peak, Marc circles her nervous, swollen bundle. Layla writhed like a dying animal, wondering if she would be capable of resisting the building orgasm. Marc loved to see her like this, surrendering to his mercy, edging her to then feel her fluttering core tightening around him over and over again, wishing to make Layla forget her name until there wasn't except him inside her. 

When the apogee of their act finally hit them, Marc felt alive. He had never felt so alive, mesmerized by her sounds, priding himself in his manhood. He keeps sinking his hardened flesh, wishing he could relish in this warm, tight captivity Layla offered forever. 

He found the strength to give her body one more enthusiastic, violent slam. It caused the swollen, overstimulated length to perfectly fit into her. 

"Hold still… don't move," he clutches her body to his. She clawed at his neck, spreading her legs a bit more to allow him better access.

She moans at his hand, pressing her intimacy, maybe because the hot feeling of her walls flexing around him were too much for him to abandon her so quickly. He places his hand to caress her and himself, not caring if his seed erupted from Layla the more he tried to bury himself. Marc feels how a few drops create a pearly creek down her thigh.  

Layla recovers her breath, allowing her heart to calm down and her body to refresh from the hot heat. There was something so erotic about them stilling, sensing the crude feeling of her sore femininity refusing to let him go. 

A profound emptiness takes over his heart when he breaks contact with her body, though it has an mischievous intention. Layla whined lowly in protest, despite her complete passiveness suggested otherwise. 

Marc caressed her hips before doing what he intended. Pampering her body was a key to extending this to dawn, for the better. Layla softly shrugged softly when she felt the blunt tip brushing the slickness in her thigh. Before she could articulate a word, a tickle in her sex finally made her realize that Marc intended to trace every thin, niveous rivulet back inside her. 

“You can’t get enough of it, can you?” she purred seductively. Just desperate sounds leaving his mouth serve as an answer. 

Layla regained strength once her voice quieted down, turning around to hold him beneath her in order to straddle his hips. Marc's face beams with euphoric enthusiasm. 

“Don’t waste any of it, husband,“ she whispered. Marc smiled, free to touch her soft forms, her sweating curves, the wet hair. Layla impaled herself in him, snatching the little coherence Marc had left. He took delight as he felt the pulsating pressure surrounding him once again, delighting her body despite it seemed too much for her to bear, as her loud moans made clear. His hands gave her hips a bruisy squeeze to fight back the breathtaking pleasure, resisting this avid, ardent onslaught of love.

"I'm just doing what you said," Marc muttered, hardly able to elaborate a coherent sentence. A devilish toothy grin traces his lips. 

"I know what I said," she groaned, processing the soreness between her legs following the rushed invasion, "it's my turn now, baby."

He was trying desperately to keep his eyes open, not wanting to miss to see her intimacy down her thighs fully merged with his. But once Layla begins to ride him, Marc closes his eyes, triumphant and ecstatic. 

Neither of them come to know about Steven covering his ears and face to respect their intimacy, having accidentally watched them at first. The diaphanous glass of the aquarium allows a clear perspective of their lovemaking. The mild mannered man couldn't help but to marvel at her body, dyed in bluish hues as his eyes contemplated her through the water. Guilt stirred his heart, but he's glad to see Layla happy after their ordeal.   

The other reflection just stares, petrified with silent awe.

Or maybe with homicidal envy. 

[your-daily-biaswrecking]

Serva me, Servabo te

save me and I will save you

pairing: photographer!Taehyung x f.reader

genre: smut, some crack and fluff, slight enemies to lovers

word count: 4.4k  |  reading time: 30 min

chapter summary: Two months later and you're still seeing each other like at the beginning.

warnings: lots of roleplaying, dirty talk, fingering f.receiving, some degration and name calling, unprotected vaginal sex, breeding kink, cumplay, crack-y and the some fluffy stuff

A/N: Very last part of this story!  Thank you so much to anyone who read this till the end! I hope you liked it and feel free to tell me everything you thought about it!

All chapters  |  Masterlist  |  Read on AO3

Epilogue

-Two months later-

Taehyung just about ripped his shirt open, tossing it to the ground with his chest puffed and his face set in a deep scowl. And you couldn’t help but break character.

“Don’t laugh!” he whined.

“I’m sorry!” you breathed, although didn’t do what you were asked to, and he pouted even more. “But can’t we just have normal sex tonight? It’s so much easier.”

”Sex!” Taehyung screeched. “Why, you have indeed lost your mind, woman! Just as I feared, the effect on you is too strong!” You had to bite your lip not to giggle at his fake accent. And he leaned in to whisper (off-script, of course): “Take your clothes off, babe.”

“Oh, no,” you tried to match his energy. Grabbed the hem of the t-shirt you had been wearing like a dress around the house and pulled it over your head unceremoniously. “Oops. I can’t seem to control myself.” Needless to say, you were a terrible actress.

“What have you done?” Taehyung looked away as if he would be in trouble if he laid his eyes on your naked body. “Please, this is improper. Keep yourself decent until I find the antidote.” And he kept a dramatic hand over his eyes, as you stood there, slightly getting lost in just looking at his back and his exposed muscles.

The boy turned to peek at you over his shoulder when you still hadn’t answered. It was obviously your turn. “Uh- right. Um… The only antidote, uh… Is your dick—” You couldn’t even finish the sentence before you broke out cackling.

“Yah!” he whined again. “I said stop laughing! Is this a joke to you?” You nodded between your snickers. “Come on!” he continued.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that…” you mumbled as you whipped away a tear or two from your eyes. “One day you’re a chimney sweeper, here to sweep my chimney, the next you’re a lamplighter here to turn me on, a log driver here to drive your log into me— I can’t keep up! It’s too hilarious!”

This time a skilled sorcerer that had accidentally given you a powerful love potion. You had to give it to him for the imagination and determination, that’s for sure. You were just too clownish to compete with him and thought it ruined the mood. Although he never seemed to agree with you on that.

“Well, what’s wrong with that?” he murmured with a pout on his lips, scratching the back of his head. “I’m just trying to make this fun.”

A gush of guilt washed through your body. You quickly reached out to him, grabbing his arms. “Oh, no, please, my Lord,” you called him with wide eyes. Getting back into character right away. “I can’t help myself. I need you right now. Please, my Lord, I’m begging you to end my suffering!”

You noticed how the corner of his lips twitched before he cleared his throat and looked at you seriously. “Ma’am, I-”

You interrupted him by crashing your lips on his. Body pinned against his as you swallowed him down desperately. And when you spoke again your voice was rough and coarse, coming out in a deep whisper. “Please, fuck me hard. I need you so bad.” And you weren’t lying.

You felt his hands hold you by the waist with strength. And he growled. “Well, I guess you should never ignore a lady’s pleas,” he rasped. Then pushed on the bed, before quickly climbing on top of you. “Do not worry, ma’am. I will make the pain go away.”

True to his promise, he didn’t waste any more time. Put two fingers in his mouth to wet them well before lowering them on your clit. And you gasped out. “Ah, thank you! This is much better.” You were always better at role-playing while he was actually touching you since none of it was acting. Taehyung growled at the way you were moaning, and you would have thought he forgot to stay in character.

But then he spoke again as his fingers traveled further down to play with your folds. “This is very wrong, ma’am. Letting me feel you up when you are such a respectable Lady. What if your husband found you like this?”

“I have a husband?” you chirped. And the boy frowned, pressing both of his fingers inside of you harshly, making you yelp. “Right! I do!” you gasped. And then moaned loudly as he started curling them deeply. “I don’t care, my Lord. You are the only one I want from now on. You are the one I love.” Words flowing off your tongue so easily, even though you had never uttered them in any other context.

Then again, like I said, none of this was acting anymore.

His expression didn’t change, although his breathing got a little more rugged. Focused on making your mouth drop from pleasure, getting you ready for the rest of the night. Something that by then he had learned to do so fast and easily.

“Is this what you wanted?” he asked you after he had you nearing your orgasm. “Are your urges satisfied?” But you shook your head frantically. “What?”

“More,” you mouthed.

He scoffed. “What more could you possibly want?” Punctuating every word with a harder thrust of his fingers.

You clawed at his back, eyes slowly moving to the back of your head. “You! I want you inside of me, my Lord. Please…”

Taehyung withdrew his fingers, and you were about to whine when you noticed the quick work he was making of his pants to free himself. “Is that the only way you’ll be cured?”

“Yes!”

His dick was already nudging your entrance. “Alright, baby,” he replied, breaking character. “I’ll fuck you real good right now.”

He moaned louder than you as he slid inside. Grabbed your legs and pushed them against your belly to level himself over your body as he began his fast and deep thrusts. At that point, you were so close, you lowered your land over your clit to rub a couple of circles before you were reaching your orgasm. Drawing a string of curses from him as he felt your walls fluttering around him.

“You came,” Taehyung groaned after you had come down your high completely. “Have you been healed, then?”

But you shook your head, wrapping your arms around his neck to pull him down for a bruising kiss, messy by the rhythm of his thrusts. “No,” you answered what you knew he wanted to hear. “The potion will only fade after you’ve made me come thrice more.”

He called out, visibly wincing before he let his head drop and his sweaty forehead hit your shoulder. “No, babe— I won’t last that long,” he breathed.

“Oh, okay. Um, then… It will only fade after you’ve finished inside me.”

Taehyung cried out at your words. And he bit down your shoulder hard, making you moan as well, as he started picking up the pace. “That’ll happen fast if you keep talking like that.” He pulled his mouth off your shoulder and let it travel up your neck, nibbling at it.

You smirked as you dipped your fingers in his hair, gathering as much as you could in a tight fist. “Please, my Lord,” you rasped in his ear, enjoying yourself a little too much as you listened to his whines and moans. The way your words affected him. “I need you to fill me up with your cum.” Another groan from him, sucking on your neck painfully hard. “I won’t be satisfied until I’m dripping with your seed.”

“You filthy whore,” Taehyung groaned. He grabbed both of your wrists and pinned them on the bed, drawing some distance between your bodies. “You’ll get pregnant with my child instead of your husband’s if I do that.”

Taehyung’s breeding kink was no secret at that point. And even though you both knew you were on the pill, you didn’t mind feeding into his desires. So you arched your back, trying to reach his mouth again. “Lord, yes!” you yelped. “I’ll only be saved if you give me your babies, my Lord. If you make me yours forever.”

"Fuck.” His hips were faltering and you could tell he was close. He finally let you kiss him again- he always loved kissing you while he orgasmed. And just a couple of pumps later you felt his cum shooting inside you. Taehyung shook, his arms barely holding his body over yours and not crushing you, and then he fell next to you.

You allowed a couple of minutes to pass for him to catch his breath and come back on earth. And then you tapped him on the shoulder. “We have a problem.”

His head whipped to your side immediately, eyes going as wide as possible. “What? What is it? Did I do something wrong?” A hand on your belly as he held you cautiously.

You bit your lip. “I don’t think the spell was broken.”

Taehyung groaned as he sighed in relief. And then he chuckled. “You scared me.” He turned on his side and wrapped his arms and legs all around your body, cuddling into you. “Good,” he whispered. “I don’t want it to.”

You smiled shyly. “Me neither.”

It wasn’t much, but it felt like the closest you’d ever come to saying you love each other. And you basked in the happiness the moment brought you.

“Amy,” you heard him mumble after a bit, while you were drawing circles over his bare back absentmindedly.

You hummed in response.

“Can I introduce you as my girlfriend?” It was so soft you barely heard it. But when you turned to blink at him, he quickly jumped at the opportunity to explain himself. “I’m not saying we have to be boyfriend and girlfriend any other day of the week, just, you know… just for the festival next week and the people that we’ll be meeting there.”

Oh, his festival…

You couldn’t tell if his cheeks were all red because of the way he had just tired himself out, or the bashfulness you had started seeing more and more on him. If it was the latter, it must have been contagious; your face flaring up and a need to hide it from his gaze overcoming you. Words like these you never mentioned. But, boy, did they make your stomach flip!

“Okay…” you swallowed, a smile fighting to appear that you could barely hold back. “You can call me your girlfriend.” It tickled your lips just to say it, and you broke out into a giggle, finally burring your head in the crook of his neck. You heard him mimic your laugh with his deep voice, holding you tighter.

Girlfriend.

Perhaps it wasn’t what you had agreed on when you had decided to keep seeing each other, always in secret and always without letting too many emotions get in the way, but you would be lying if it didn’t fit your current situation. You met up every day, and it wasn’t even for sexual reasons most of the time. You spent time together, and not because you had nothing better to do, but because you wanted to. You slept most nights, ate, or even worked together. Basically, any time you could escape your two friends, you knew you’d be spending it with each other. You obviously weren’t seeing any other guys, and you thought even if Taehyung wanted to see other girls, there was no way he had the time to.

You claimed you didn’t know what this was but introducing you as his girlfriend to the people he works with made too much sense.

“What about Jimin?” you asked him them. “If he comes, too, won’t he find out about us?”

Taehyung didn’t miss a beat. “Oh, I won’t tell him to come.” He took your hand and placed it over his hair, a sign he wanted pets- something that he also did quite often. Taehyung loved your pets so much he all but purred as he rubbed his face on your chest like a little tiger.

You gasped. “Oh, no! The betrayal!”

“Shut up,” he laughed at you.

“You sure you’ll be alright without your soulmate by your side for one night?”

He just hummed. “It’s alright, I’ll have you.”

Even more butterflies in your stomach, but you ignored them. Although they didn’t seem to go away, not for the entire rest of that week. In fact, the closer you got to the opening night of his photography festival, the worst they got. Excitement to be finally out in the open with him. To be walking by his side as everyone sees you as a couple. You randomly thought about that throughout your days and had to stop and feel up your cheeks as they burned. You had to come up with a good lie (even though you were terrible at acting) to tell Yoonji why you couldn’t spend Friday night with her. And, most importantly, you had to find something nice to wear; you had to impress as Kim Taehyung’s girlfriend, right?

You were nervous like you were going on your first date when Taehyung came to pick you up. But then when you saw him, fidgeting and slightly sweating as he was waiting for you next to his car, you realized he was even more anxious. Perhaps because he had two things to be jumpy about; you and his work. So whatever worries you had instantly melted away as you walked up to him and gave him a peck on the lips. Your job naturally turning into making him feel better.

“Hey,” he called, a little surprised as he clearly hadn’t noticed you. He looked you up and down. And when his eyes met yours again they were so much brighter. “You’re gorgeous.”

You didn’t think it was anything too extravagant, just a classy cocktail dress to fit with the dress code. Although you had done your hair and makeup really nicely. And perhaps that was the only time he had ever seen you so dolled up. But still, you thought that was nothing compared to him.

“Not as gorgeous as you,” you told him. You had no idea he could look so good in a suit, with his normally curly and messy hair pushed back to expose his forehead. Your hand wrapped around his tie to pull him down for another kiss, a little deeper. And then you looked at him with a confident smile. “Tonight is going to be amazing, baby.”

“Let’s hope so,” he said with a chuckle.

The gallery was packed, even though it was still so early. And even though your heart was beating ten times faster than normal, you had to appear as casual as possible. So you just smiled at the photographer as he led you inside. But when you felt his hand reach for your own, everything calmed down a bit. He was holding your hand! He was holding your hand and walking you around the room like he had nothing to hide. It drove you insane!

You had so many people to meet. From his boss, to his coworkers, to other artists he had met at some point, journalists and critics. And as promised, he always did so with a soft “This is my girlfriend, Amy.” And then you got praised for the kind of man you had by your side, or he got praised for the kind of catch that you were. You heard the nicest things in just some time. And you heard Taehyung refer to you as his girlfriend so much you almost got used to it already. Even though you didn’t know if something like that could ever be possible.

The collection was stunning. Every photo following an easy-to-grasp timeline, some of them taken by your man and others not. Most of them black and white, some with people as their subjects and others with nature. You recognized the Manor in a couple of them, clearly taken by Taehyung. Before you recognized yourself.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he whispered at you when he saw your eyes falling on that one picture of you in the garden with what Taehyung called fairies. It was up there, with the rest of them, and it astonished you just how well it fit with the aesthetic. How you could look so well it seemed like you were a paid model.

“I don’t mind…” you mumbled and turned to look at him. “I love it.” Your face was beaming and so was his. Smiling down at you with the rawest emotions reflecting in his eyes. And he leaned slightly down, his lips parting. And you didn’t know if he was about to kiss you or repeat your words with an added meaning to them. Taking a deep breath as you waited for his move, lost in thought- everything around you just a buzz, just a blur.

His eyes widened. And he didn’t say anything. He didn’t kiss you. Instead, he grabbed you and shoved you aggressively to the side. Stumbling as you bumped and disappeared into the crowd.

You were about to go off, turning to glare at him -like what the fuck even was that?- when he called out to someone you couldn’t see.

“Jimin! Yoonji!”

Oh, shit!

Taehyung had his arms stretched out as he moved as farther away from you as he could. And you quickly looked around you, trying to find somewhere to hide.

“What’re you guys doing here?” Taehyung breathed with an extremely big smile on; dead give away it was fake. “I told you- you didn’t have to come!” he spoke through his teeth.

“You really thought I’d miss my best friend’s festival?” Jimin’s sweet voice sounded.

“Ha, of course… Why would I think that?” It was becoming apparent why his plan was stupid just about now. You peeked over your shoulder to see them hugging in greeting before you quickly turned back around. Staring at a random picture and hoping they wouldn’t notice you.

“Where did Amy go?” Yoonji asked.

Well, fuck. They did notice you.

Taehyung choked. “Wha- What? Who? Who’s that?”

You heard your ex-roommate scoff in her very characteristic way. “My best friend, Amy!”

“Ah…” Taehyung pretended he only then realized what she was talking about. You know what? He wasn’t a great actor either after all. “I don’t kno- She’s not here, why would she be here? That’s crazy. What are you-”

“There she is,” Jimin announced, probably with a pointed finger as well. “Ames!”

Your entire body tensed up. But you didn’t move; perhaps if you didn’t move they wouldn’t be able to see you.

“Amy!” Yoonji’s voice sounded louder.

Don’t move, don’t move, don’t move! Just look at the picture. What a great picture, right? Move closer so that you can look at it better. Wow, so interesting!

“Ames!” Yoonji called you one last time as she tapped your shoulder and you jumped up.

You finally turned to look at them. “Oh? Oh my God…. Hey guys!” you exclaimed, trying to look surprised even though your sweating was probably so obvious. You looked at all three of them. “I didn’t know you’d be here, too! What are you all doing here? This is amazing.”

Jimin narrowed his eyes at you. “You didn’t know Taehyung would be at his own festival?”

You turned your shocked face towards the man that was mentioned. “This is your festival?” you squeaked. “Wow, that’s great. It’s- it’s amazing. Good job.”

You heard Yoonji groan while Jimin burst into laughter. And all you and Taehyung could do was stare at them with wide eyes and your palms sweating more and more, as they looked at each other and communicated without even speaking.

“Oh my God, you guys!” the girl finally snarled, rolling her eyes and folding her arms over her chest. “Drop the act. We already know you’re a… thing.”

“Whaaat?” you squealed in a high-pitched voice. But quickly realized there was no use. Your face dropped. “What?” you repeated in a deeper voice and a frown. “Since when?”

-One month ago-

Yoonji put the key she had never returned in the door of your apartment, getting in. It wasn’t even an emergency or anything, just wanted to drop by to see you. The silence of the place let her know instantly that you were still sleeping though.

“Ugh, that girl…” she sighed. “She’s always sleeping in so late, it’s a wonder she is ever on time for her morning classes! I really don’t know how she can survive without me around here.” And she casually walked into your bedroom. Not anything weird, she always did that. There were no boundaries or secrets between the two of you.

Well, that was what she thought before she saw you asleep in some guy's arms.

“Oh shit!” she gasped, keeping quiet.

She almost turned immediately around to leave the room, but then she realized you hadn’t told her about any guys. So who the fuck was that?

“No fucking way!” she mouthed when she recognized who that handsome face belonged to. “Jimin”! You won’t believe what I just saw!” she cried at her phone once she was back outside the house. “Amy and Taehyung are fucking!”

“Ha! I knew it!” the boy on the other end of the call yelped. “I told you something would happen. I told you he liked her.”

Yoonji was looking back at the closed door as she was walking away, still processing the news. “Well, I knew he liked her, too,” she mumbled. “I just didn’t think she’d go for it.”

“Okay, but how do you know they’re fucking?”

“Just caught them in bed together.”

“Juicy. Did they see you?”

The girl shook her head before she remembered he couldn’t see her. “No, no, they were sleeping. And I just left, I didn’t know what to do.” She thought about the situation she had just been in a bit clearer as she walked farther and farther away. The shock wearing off a bit. And she was just surprised she hadn’t yelled at you right then. “I can’t believe this- how long has this been happening? Why didn’t she tell me anything?”

“Uh…” Jimin hummed as he thought about it. “They are probably too embarrassed to admit it. Or maybe it’s nothing serious and they don’t want to tell us.”

“Still! How could she do that to me?” her voice sounded hurt right before she got happy again. “Do you realize how amazing this is, though? We can go on double dates all together now!”

“See, this is exactly why she didn’t tell you.”

Yoonji scoffed. “Whatever. I’ll wait until she tells me and then I’ll kill her. Deal?”

“You bitch!” you gasped, your mouth dropping. “You knew all this time? And you didn’t tell me anything?”

“You didn’t tell me anything first!” Yoonji whined just as loud as you.

You took in a deep breath, ready to argue with her more. But then sighed in defeat. “Touché.”

And Yoonji was immediately by your side, hooking her arm around yours and bouncing slightly. “Whatever, it doesn’t matter. What matters is that now we know! And you have to tell me from the start!” she mumbling in excitement. “I want to know everything…” Her eyes traveling up and down Taehyung as she dragged out that last word.

The boy immediately looked at you with wide eyes. “Uh, Amy?” he begged with a shaky voice.

You quickly shook your head, closing your eyes in reassurance. “Don’t worry, I won’t tell her everything.”

"I bet it started at the Manor," Yoonji continued. "How was it, anyway? Would you recommend it?"

"Oh, it was definitely haunted," Taehyung murmured. "But yeah, I'd recommend it."

Jimin was off to the side, chuckling as he watched the way you all reacted. Then he pulled his girlfriend kindly off you. “Great. Now that it’s official, I guess we can finally go on those double dates Yoonji wants so much.”

The way Taehyung and you shared an awkward look didn’t go by unnoticed.

“Wait,” Yoonji was quick to intervene. “Is it official, though? Are you guys just fucking or are you in love or something?”

The words alone knocked all the air out of your lungs. And when you turned slowly to the side to look at the photographer, he seemed to be in a very similar position. Staring at each other with your faces turning beet red. Staring because you didn’t know who would speak first. And you didn’t know who would speak first because you didn’t know what you should say. You weren’t just fucking, right? But could you say you were in love? What if you tried to say that and he said the other at the same time?

That wasn’t the thing you had agreed on. All you had agreed on was being boyfriend and girlfriend just for tonight. Just for all these strangers. So what were you to your friends? What were you to yourselves?

“Yoonji, you have such a talent for putting people in an awkward spot,” Jimin broke the silence. It allowed you to chuckle and look away for a moment, perhaps hoping you had avoided the question altogether. But Taehyung cleared his throat.

“She’s my girlfriend tonight,” he said with a hand in the small of your back. That was good, that was safe. Just what you had agreed on.

“What do you mean tonight?” Yoonji chimed in. “She won’t be tomorrow?”

There we go again; same situation. You looked up at Taehyung to read his reaction, but he was avoiding your eyes. “She…” he mumbled. And you were hanging by his lips. “She can. If she wants to.”

You didn’t even have enough time to process his words before both Yoonji and Jimin turned to you, looking at you expectingly. And you opened your mouth but were too flustered to speak. Eyes on you making you freeze.

“Well?” Jimin pressed you.

“Wha- you guys are insane,” you breathed out, a heat covering your entire face. And you fanned yourself as you tried to fight the smile -or laugh- that was threatening to break out, rendering you completely unable to speak. But when you finally met Taehyung’s eyes, too, and they were just as nervous, you snorted. “Of course I’ll be his girlfriend tomorrow, too. I have been his girlfriend for a while now.”

The relief that washed over his features made you unable to hold back your flustered grin. And you buried your face in his arm, hating that you had to do this in such a public place. With an audience, too. But not enough to distract from the pure euphoria you were feeling right then.

“So you guys are in love or something!” Yoonji shrieked, jumping up in celebration.

“I am,” Taehyung said. No hesitation this time. Just a sweet smile as he looked down at you, waiting for you to stop hiding away.

And when you did, you smiled up at him as well. “Me too,” you whispered. Your eyes were locked, staring intensely as your smiles kept growing more and more. And once again you were lost in thought- everything around you just a buzz, a blur.

And he leaned down to give you a soft kiss.

“I love you,” he mouthed.

“I love you, too.”

The first time you said it. First of many to come.

The end!

[boxofbadaddiction]

A Likely Story

Fred Weasley x Reader

Warnings: Swearing.

This story is inspired from a request of my F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List.

Prompts: 9, 16 & 18

"They don't know that we know they know"

"DANGER!"

"What a small world./Yet I never run into Beyoncè"

"What'd you tell George?"

"Told him I had detention with Snape for setting off Dungbombs in his Second Years class."

"Hmm, very believable."

"That's because it's true."

"Why am I not surprised?"

"What'd you tell your mates?"

"Just said I was going for a walk."

"Guess that'll do. Remind me to give you some pointers on how to lie when we get back."

"Very funny."

Every word spoken echoed off the damp walls of the One Eyed Witch Passage as Fred and Y/n made their way through the dark tunnel. The only source of light being the soft glow emitting from the tips of their wands, allowing only enough visibility to see just infront of them as they walked.

The pair were currently sneaking from the Castle on a day which were not allocated for any Hogsmead Visitations. It were a school day. However, rather than sitting about the Castle grounds for the two free periods in their schedules, Fred had the brilliant idea of escaping the unbearable reign of Umbridge - even if only for a few hours, by taking a trip into town.

"You know they know, right?"

"Ahh, but they don't know that we know they know. Now do they?" Fred grinned as he shoved y/ns shoulder with his own playfully, before intertwining their cold fingers. "I fail to see how that matters" "makes it all the more fun." "Whatever makes you happy, Big Guy." "You mean, aside from you?"

Y/n rolled her eyes at his cheesiness, but smiled nonetheless. Stopping abruptly from a harsh tug at her hand, one that had her being pulled flush against Fred - chest to chest.

Threading his wand between his fingers, he brought his other hand to the back of y/ns neck and kissed her deeply.

The kiss left her flushed, biting her lip to suppress a giddy smile which naturally only caused a smug grin to appear on the face of her partner.

Sensing how inflated his ego was becoming y/n stepped back, shoving his chest, "Hurry up and get me out of here, loverboy, I'm freezing."

This wasn't the first time the two had been in a situation such as this. They had been in a relationship for quite a few months now but were keeping it secret - for the most part anyway, but they knew the others were suspicious.

There were several reasons why they felt their relationship needed to remain secret. One being for the fact Y/n were a Slytherin. Whom for as long as anyone could remember had despised the Weasleys, and vice versa. The second, and most crucial reason was due to y/ns family. She was a Y/l/n. A family who, like the Malfoys and LeStrange, were blood purists and for that matter hated Muggles, Muggleborns and Blood Traitors alike. A trait not inherited by that of the y/l/ns only daughter. Y/n.

After overcoming the years of conditioning by her parents; painting the Weasleys, anyone alike and Muggleborns as the enemy or lessers, she'd surrounded herself with friends of all houses and blood-status.

She even discovered there to be a remarkable amount of similarities between herself and that of the Redheaded family. Soon enough finding herself regularly in comfortable conversation with the Twins during their shared classes, after years of the ridiculous feud between them buried itself in the past. It then naturally didn't take long for her to start falling for the older, louder, Twin.

Though people acknowledged she were different to her family the pair were still hesitant about the reaction they'd receive being together in public, so they thought it best to keep to themselves. Which lead to a lot of sneaking around. Hence todays secret date in Hogsmead.

A few moments later Fred and Y/n reached the trap door of Honeydukes Cellar. Fred was the one to check the coast were clear. Smiling as he watched the owners feet retreating up the basements staircase to the store above. Piece of Cauldron Cake he thought. They silently slipped through the shop, completely unnoticed.

Glad to finally have the freedom to be with one another openly the two let out relieved breaths upon being met with the chilly fresh air of Hogsmead.

They happily strolled throughout the streets hand-in-hand going about their usual routine. A quick stop to The Three Broomsticks for a couple Butterbeers then off to what they'd deemed as "their spot", a clearing by the forest over looking the Shrieking Shack where they regularly met of a weekend for lunch and much needed time together.

Fred was spinning his girlfriend as if dancing as they walked, smiling, laughing and unashamedly flirting loudly as they did so.

The two were in a world of their own as they rough housed in the soft snow, throwing handfuls at one another. Unfortunately, blissfully unaware of the approaching complication in their secret rendezvous.

"Well, well, well." Came a cold voice from behind them, one which sent chills down y/ns spine - she would know that voice anywhere. Lucius Malfoy.

The teenagers turned with identical deadpan expressions to the man before them. "What a small world." "And yet I never run into Beyoncè" y/n countered sarcastically, her tone bitter and harsh.

"Whatever would one make of this, Hmm? A y/l/n fraternising with a Weasley..." Luicus eyed Fred with distaste, as if it were unsettling to simply be in his presence.

Fred stood tall and firm in place; a murderous glare thrown towards the arrogant man as he grit his teeth.

"One?" Y/ns brow raised in question, her voice drawing Malfoys attention back to her. He simply nodded in response, causing the girl to scoff as realisation struck. An exasperated smile tugging at her lips whilst she spoke, "Right. Going to rat me out to Daddy for having a friend, Lucius?" "But of course not." He took a step closer to the couple, "for being outside the grounds of Hogwarts, accompanied by an irresponsible and perpetually reckless boy however..." y/n swallowed harshly, a wave of fear coursing through her veins as her confidence faltered.

"Well, one might say it were my responsibility to report your little...adventure today. My, I can't begin to imagine the misfortune one might be subjected to less the High Inquisitor learn of such a blatant disregard for school protocols. Those for the offenders...or the Headmaster for that matter."

Y/n was silently panicking at these words. Dumbledore has already been on thin ice with the Ministry recently. If anyone finds out, well...that'd be the end of him.

"Of course however, y/n, you would be forgiven on account of your-" "Father." "-innocence, clearly under the manipulation of this one, whom would naturally be expelled." Lucius lazily waved his hand towards Fred. "You don't even know which Weasley 'this one' is." Y/n snapped. "Unimportant. I imagine Delores will be thrilled at the opportunity of finally ridding both from the school. And as for Dumbledore-"

"You're getting ahead of yourself, Malfoy." Fred finally spoke. Stepping forward to stand slightly infront of y/n protectively. His jaw and fists were clenched in rage, knuckles turning ghostly white under the strain in his grip. "Am I?" "Yes. To snitch on us you'd first need proof we were here in the first place." "You Weasleys truly are daft. I believe I have all the 'proof' I'll be needing. Given the fact you are stood right here before me, far from the saftey of the school grounds." "Are we?" Fred subtly reached for y/ns hand as he spoke, holding her palm tight behind his back, eyes staring directly into Malfoys challenging his dominance.

"Because I'm sure if you were to go to the Castle right now; I could be found with my brother and y/n here...undoubtedly studying in the Library." "Is that so?" Lucius had a rather done and ugly expression on his face at Freds antics, whom began smiling wickedly. Uttering a simple "yep." In response.

Their stare-off was broken as Fred glanced over Malfoys shoulder, raising his free arm to wave he greeted loudly, "Hello, Hagrid!" This causing the blonde man to turn in his direction. That was Fred's cue. Taking advantage of the moment and apparating the pair to the passage of the Shrieking Shack.

They took off running, hand-in-hand as they manoeuvred the winding tunnel to the school. Sprinting so quickly that even the Whomping Willow were too slow to react to their sudden appearance as they breached the grounds.

As they reached the, thankfully empty, courtyard they finally allowed themselves the opportunity to breathe and dropped the hold of one anothers hand. Fred swallowed thickly to ease the burning in his throat, "you have to-" "yeah. And you need to-" "yeah."

Exhausted and amused chuckles fell from their lips at the understanding shared between them. Placing one final, frantic, kiss to one anothers lips as goodbye they held each other close not wanting to let go. One of y/ns hands gripped Freds hair tightly whilst the other bunched in the fabric of his shirts collar. Both his hands placed securely on her waist. Y/n whines, knowing he won't be able to break the kiss himself, focusing all her strength she pushed from his chest, "Go" she whispered. Sighing frustratedly from the loss of his lips on hers he nods in agreement before both begin running in opposite directions.

Now thankful he had such a large family Fred was quickly successful in finding a family member to cling himself to. Barrelling down the corridor to where Ron and Harry were walking and conversing over whatever, with their backs to him. Overestimating the force of his current momentum he collided forcefully with the boys shoulders in attempt to steady himself, nearly toppling all three.

"What's your problem!?" Ron snapped angrily. "DANGER!" Fred whisper yelled, very out of breath. The scene brought a rather wide smile to Harrys face, watching as the Twin clutched his side painfully and tried to speak. "If-If anyone asks. I've been here the whole-WHOLE time. Okay!?" He was gesturing wildly between the three of them as he spoke, appearing desperate.

"Oh yeah? And what's in it for us?" Ron asked cockily. "For you, little Brother..." "anything?" He smiled smugly, earning a clap on the shoulder from his flustered older brother. "Not quite, Ronniekins."

Fred's eyes turned dark as he straightened himself, grip tightening on Rons shoulder like a vice. "Cover for me this time and you get to live another day." Ron was wincing at the pain being inflicted by the hold on his shoulder, "You-you can't do anything to me." Harry looked sceptical at this, it was Fred Weasley afterall.

"Can't I? It's a big Castle, Ronnie. Accidents happen." Fred's stare hadn't left Ron's eyes the whole time he spoke. A smirk forming on his face as if taking joy in the countless possibilities he had playing on his mind.

Noticing the poorly restrained fear spreading through his brother as Ron gulped thickly he lightened his grip knowing he's won.

"F-fine. Doesn't bother me anyway. Not like it's a huge inconvenience is it, Harry?" Ron tried to play the moment off cooly, though the panic was evident on his voice. "Not at all" Harry laughed but suddenly his expression soured. Looking forward to the entrance of the hall.

"Is that...Lucius?" The Weasleys heads turned to see the pale face of Malfoy striding towards them accompanied by Delores and...oh God. Freds blood ran cold.

"It is, and Titus Y/l/n! What are they doing here?" Ron growled.

"Danger. Danger. Danger." Fred mumbled from the side of his mouth, avoiding eye contact and looking quite nervous, though he played it off much better than his brother had. The boys looked up to him "You didn't..." they spat. Fred cleared his throat as a warning, and it worked just as well as a confession in Harry and Rons opinion, as the three adults approached.

"Potter." "Malfoy."

"Weasley." "Y/l/n."

"Eh-hem" the teens rolled their eyes. "Professor?"

"Tell me, Mr Weasley" she began, looking straight to Fred, "can you account for your whereabouts this afternoon?" "With these two."

"Where's your Twin?" Lucius rudely interrupted. "Haven't the foggiest. Since, ya know...I'm not with him." "It is strange" Umbridge began, "that you are without your Twin, seeing as how you are rarely to find one without the other." She giggled sickly. "Yeah, rarely. But not never."

At his words Lucius' expression became proud and more confident, turning to Delores now to speak. "He's the one. I'm sure of it." "The one what?"

"Enough of this. My daughter, where is she?" Titus interjects. "What...y/n? Stuffed if I know. Don't fancy myself much a snake charmer. What's with the interrogation?"

"Well it would seem, Mr Malfoy here has a rather interesting story to share on the topic of two seventh years strolling about Hogsmead not even an hour ago. A Weasley and-"

"My daughter. Where is she!?"

"I've already told you. I don't know!" Titus began advancing on Fred, rage burning clear in his eyes, "I'm warning you, Weasley. If you've in anyway involved yourself with y/n I will-"

"Dad?" A soft voice called from the end of the corridor. "Y/n." The girl looked around at the gathered group confusedly before stepping between Fred, Harry and Ron to embrace her Father in a quick greeting. "What are you doing here?" "Where have you been?" "Where-what? I've been-" "the Library perhaps?" Lucius raised a mocking brow. "What? No I-I was taking a walk by the Lake." "A likely story."

"Lucius here, tells me you were in Hogsmead with this boy." Titus gestures to Fred a venom held behind his voice.

Y/n looks over Fred with visible disgust, whilst he smiles coldly back. "Why on Earth would I ever surround myself with the likes of them?" She spits. Looking back to her Father as if highly insulted by his accusation.

Titus observes the interaction carefully as if watching for any weakness in their story. But he finds none. His expression softens as he turns back to his daughter completely. "I apologise, y/n/n. Lucius was obviously mistaken." He glares back over his shoulder to the blonde man who scoffs in response. "I would nev-" "Save it, Lucius." Titus growls. "But, Titus if I may, why would Mr Malfoy report this if it were not-" "you may not." The girls father puts an end to Umbridges interruption as she'd attempted to defend the other man. "I trust my daughter to know of the correct company to keep. Lucius was obviously mistaken and has by extension wasted my time."

Thankfully the adults were too busy bickering for anyone to notice the small smiles that threaten to break onto the faces of the gathered teenagers.

"I'm sorry, dear. I must be leaving now and I hope your studies are going well." "They are Dad, I'll write you and Mum tonight to fill you in on everything. Just as I always do." Y/n smiled. Titus pulled his daughter in for a final hug, placing a soft kiss to her forehead before turning to leave, with a last menacing glare to Delores and Lucius he walked away.

"Well. That will be all, the four of you off to your Common rooms immediately to prepare for dinner. Mr Malfoy if you'd follow me I'll escort you from the Castle." Umbridge spoke.

Harry and Ron couldn't contain their giggles at the insulted reaction shown by Malfoy as he turned to leave.

Lucius took one final look over his shoulder to the teens, who had not moved, being met with the taunting smile and small wave of y/n with Fred now standing confidently beside her.

Once finally out of sight the couple fell into hysterics, Fred wrapping an arm around y/ns shoulder as they laughed.

"What the bloody hell did you two do!?" Ron asked through a wide grin. "Just took a quick trip into town that's all..." "Safe to say our secrets out, Freddie." Y/n whispered to him as she noted all the students watching the group, paying particular attention to Freds arm around her. "Secret? You kidding! You two are the most obvious people on the planet!" Harry quipped. "George has been taking bets on how long it'll take for you two to just come out and admit it." "I know." Spoke Fred, "I had Colin Creevey place 7 Sickles on it for me." "You bet on us!?" "The odds were on my side! But thanks to Malfoy date-crashing I'm out of it now."

"About that, how did you two get back here so fast?" Ron questions.

"We apparated to The Shack then hauled ass." Y/n answered. "The pros of being 17" Fred winked, pulling y/n back into his chest, resting his chin atop her head. As his arms wrapped around her she nestled herself comfortably within his embrace with a lovestruck smile.

"Right well, as amusing as that was, this-" Ron guestured to the couple, "is gonna turn my stomach. And I'm starving so, Harry, coming to get ready for dinner?" the bluntness causing his best friend to roll his eyes with a chuckle. "Yeah alright. And I'll be sure to tell George all about this if we run into him along the way." Harry joked, waving to the couple as they walked towards the Gryffindor common room.

They stood there for a moment, contently basking in each others warmth before y/n turned in place to face her boyfriend with a cheekily grin. "So, still think I need tips on how to lie?" Fred clicks his jaw as he pretends to be deep in thought. Nodding slowly as he answers, "yeah, yep. Absolutely." "I just successfully dooped not only my Father but Delores fucking Umbridge! Okay? I deserve a frickin' gold star."

Fred can't help but laugh at her comment. "Alright, first of all. 'Dooped'? That is the least cool thing you've ever said. Secondly, you're so cute when you get all sassy. And unfortunately for you, I'm fresh out of gold stars...but I'll happily reward you for that semi-decent performance." Y/ns mouth falls open at the last words, "semi-decent!?" Fred nods innocently, "You sir, are a twat!" She states firmly as she pushes out of his arms making the redhead laugh loudly.

Taking a strong grip to her wrist as she begins to walk away he pulls her back to him, wrapping an arm around her waist as the other fists the hair at the nape of her neck pulling her lips into his.

The kiss is hard and passionate, as if he's trying to make up for their spoiled date in this one moment. And it's working, fireworks erupt within y/ns chest as goosebumps spread over her skin and she can't help the soft moans that sound from her throat. It's perfect.

Fred smiles as he rests his forehead against hers, feeling like he's drunk an entire Cauldron of love potion. "You were brilliant today, love." He whispers. "Fred, that kiss was...wow." he hums in response. "I still want the star though." she goads making him roll his eyes and throw his head back in exasperation. She can feel the silent laughter radiate through his body as she holds him close bringing her head to rest against his chest.

Freds arms hold y/n tighter as he lets out a comfortable sigh, placing his head atop of hers. Eyes softly closing in complete bliss. As fun as all the sneaking around was he could get used to this. Holding her when, where and for as long as he wants? To Fred, that sounds exactly like Heaven.

[catxsnow]

VENGEANCE T.D.

Summary: After Jason’s death, Tim was the one person that you could lean on, now more than ever. 

Tim x reader and Sister!reader x Jason

Warning: Jason’s death, obviously. swears

A/N: I’m not entirely content with this, might fuck with a part two, who knows.

GIF not mine 

Part Two

Word count: 2.6k

Jason Todd didn't hate Tim Drake.

He never hated Tim, he hated Bruce for allowing Tim to be put into the same situation that he was in. Jason never wanted to see another Robin be brutally murdered like he was. He never wanted another opportunity for some innocent kid who was just trying to make good in the world be beaten to death.

Jason did however, hate Bruce for not getting revenge on his behalf. He hated that Bruce never killed the Joker for killing him. That was why he was filled with so much hate towards the Wayne family. He thought he meant enough to Bruce to cross the line for once. Then again, he also thought that you would too.

You were Jason's younger sister, only by just under two years but he acted as if he was your parent half the time. When the two of you got taken in by Bruce, he became even more protective over you - if that was even possible. You were all Jason had for a very long time.

The shit that the two of you had gone through together, the things that you needed to do to survive, well, nothing could break that bond. Nothing besides the Joker.

The Joker took Jason away from you. When Jason found out that your mother was alive, he went on his own. He knew too well that you would want nothing to do with her - the two of you never got along, not that it was very easy to get along with her in the first place.

So, when Jason was on that cold, concrete floor, beaten half to death and blood dripping everywhere, his last thought was that he was glad you never came with him. He was glad that you never had to go through the pain that he did and the death that followed.

You had never felt so much pain in your life. The heartbreak that Jason's death caused you broke you in ways that you didn't think possible. Jason was the only one that was there for you when you needed someone, he was always the person who knew the right things to say, and wouldn't hesitate to get his hands dirty and make someone pay if they dared hurt you.

Jason was the best big brother you could have ever imagined. Losing him, was like losing a piece of yourself. You couldn't take the pain of missing your other half - so, just like Bruce had done, you put every spare moment of time out on the streets. Your mantle of Batgirl was upheld, but your antics more violent.

Bruce saw it, GCPD saw it, even Dick saw it and he barely stepped foot into the manor after his departure and fight with Bruce. However, no one said anything about it. Bruce was just the same, if not worse. His punches became harder, never ending until his victim was barely breathing. So close to crossing the line, but never far enough to not be able to come back.

And then Tim Drake came around.

He somehow figured out Bruce was Batman and that you were Batgirl. He knew that the two of you needed a Robin, someone that would keep you from passing that line for good. So Bruce took him in, he trained Tim and made him the next Robin.

You didn't mind Tim. He was a nice guy - even though you were very rude to him at first. The loss of Jason turned you in to a completely different person. Cold, untrusting, snappy, nothing like you used to be. He knew what had happened and tried his best to make life better for you.

Slowly, you started to warm up to Tim. You saw him less as a replacement to your brother and more of a friend. He didn't want you to think that he replaced Jason, he simply wanted to help to make sure that you and Batman kept your morals that you spent years maintaining.

He was the reason that you never crossed that line. Tim stopped you from killing the Joker. The moment that he popped his out of the twisted shadows he hid within, you were there, beating the ever living hell out of him. All you could see was him beating Jason, an innocent kid. You did this for Jason, to avenge him.

Joker was left in a bloody, beaten, lifeless pulp when you were done with him. Broken ribs, displaced knees, so much blood on his face that he wasn't recognizable. You wanted to kill him, you tried to, but Tim was the one to swoop in the last minute, stopping you from something you would regret for the rest of your life.

You broke down in his arms, crying that your brother was gone and that he was right, killing the Joker wouldn't bring him back. Tim held you as you bawled, promising that he would be there for you, no matter the pain. You just wanted to feel something other than the heartbreak that filled your chest - so Tim changed that.

Instead of grief, he filled you with happiness, love, desire. Upon trying to help you, Tim fell in love with you along the way. He spent hours with you, training to be better, crying on the year death of your brother, anything  to distract you from the pain. He was there with you every step of the way.

He was scared to tell you how he felt. Scared that you only saw him as a crutch rather than a lover.

On the night of a Wayne gala, he couldn't hold his tongue any longer. You wore the most gorgeous gown that he had ever seen, or maybe it was just because you were the one in it. So, when the two of you danced, hand in hand and effortless gliding across the ballroom, he ended the dance with a kiss.

You weren't expecting it, but the moment that he had his lips on yours, you completely melted into him. Feelings that you never realized were even there erupted through your whole body, a happiness that you hadn't felt since that day. Tim swept you off your feet, literally.

You were happy with Tim. He brought a smile to your face on the hardest of days. Patrolling became something that you looked forward to again rather than feeling like a chore. You were no longer as violent as you once were, Bruce was slowly feeling the same way. Tim brought a light to both of your lives.

Things finally seemed like they were getting back to a place of normalcy. You could sleep at night without waking up from a nightmare, visit Jason's grave (something that was always too painful to do before Tim), even go into Jason's old room. Things were getting easier, but the pain was still there.

"Batgirl to Robin," you spoke over the comms. It was a pretty normal night on patrol - a few common thugs but nothing major. A new and improved Batgirl suit covered your body - you had finally outgrown the old one.

"Robin."

"How do you feel about a late night sushi date after this?" It was nearing the end of your guys night and you were starting to get hungry. The bright lights of a 24-hour sushi restaurant were catching your attention.

"You always hated sushi."

The voice made you jump. This wasn't Tim's voice, in fact it wasn't even over the comms. It was coming from right behind you. Not very many people could sneak up on you - in fact only Batman was able to and this sure as hell wasn't Batman. A tall man with a red helmet and guns holstered on his hips stood before you.

His voice was distorted and you had no idea who it was or where they had come from. Gotham was filled with all kinds of crazy, but only few were skilled enough to best you.

However, it was what he had known about you that threw you off - hating sushi. It was true, you never liked sushi until you met Tim. He had taken you there on a date one evening and before you could complain about the choice of food, he had given you the best meal of your life. Not only did you like the food now, but eating it always reminded you of him.

You decided that attacking first, asking questions later was your best choice. You didn't know who this guy was but you weren't planning on finding out the hard way. This guy could be wanting to kill you - not that you would be surprised. After upholding the mantle for several years after Barbra, you had a pretty long list of enemies.

This guy, wasn't one of them. Yet.

Whoever he was, he knew how to fight. Every move that you pulled on him, he somehow knew how to block, counter, or predict. He managed to dodge nearly all of your attempts at a batarang hit and those that he wasn't able to dodge, deflected off of his helmet. He was good, maybe better than you.

You landed several good punches on him. Since his helmet seemed to be strong, you aimed for the ribs, the knees, and shoulders. However, it seemed that with every hit you got, he had returned. Pain flared up in your ribs and you were sure that they were cracked, if not broken.

The man's kick had pushed you across the roof and you landed painful against the ground. A loud groan was emitted and all the wind was knocked out of your lungs. This guy was good, there was no way that you could take him on your own.

"Robin I-" you never got to finish you sentence. A loud gunshot rang out with a bullet zooming right by your ear. Ringing filled your head and you flinched away from your earpiece.

"Batgirl? Batgirl! What happened? (Y/N)!" Tim yelled. You didn't dare reach to try and speak to him again. Not when his gun was out and pointed right at you. Instead, you raised your arms in a temporary surrender. This man, he obviously wanted something otherwise he would have shot you already.

"What do you want? Who are you?" He never lowered his gun. You narrowed your eyes at him, "you're not going to kill me, so what the hell do you want. Better make it quick, the Bats is on his way."

"You've gotten better at being Batgirl," He finally spoke again. The modulated voice rang loud and clear in the traffic filled night. "I still beat you though, just like always."

Just like always? What the hell was this guy talking about. You had never met him before in your life. You had fought a lot of people in your line of work but you would have remember someone like him - someone that could put you on your ass in a matter of minutes.

A fear began to well in your chest about what was going to happen to you. A fear that maybe this man would bring you to the same demise as your brother. It had been a long time since you feared death.

"What do you want?" You repeated a final time. With a wince, you pushed yourself off the ground, eye level with the barrel of his gun. Obviously, he didn't trust you enough for you to be standing without a weapon pointed between your eyes. You just hoped that Tim and Bruce would show up fast enough before this guy could do anything to you.

"Your brother would be disappointed in you."

Your breath caught in your throat. How did he know about Jason? How did he know what had happened to him? And mostly importantly, how did he know that you could never bring yourself to kill the joker? This man knew who you were, your real identity - or maybe he was just bluffing.

You didn't give him a reaction, that had to have been what he was looking for. How he knew your brother - and you- and why he was interested in the relationship, left you more confused than anything. You wanted to know how this man was, and more importantly, you wanted to know what he wanted.

"You don't know anything about me."

"I know everything about you," he argued, his voice rising. "You couldn't avenge your brother, you let Batman replace him, what else have you done?"

"He never would have wanted me to cross that line, because he knew I would never be able to come back!" You matched his voice. Your fists clenched at your sides and you suddenly felt furious that this man standing in front of you pretended that he knew who you were and who Jason was.

"He would have wanted you to make sure that no one took the mantle of Robin again, he would have wanted you to make sure that no one would have to share the same death as him but what did you do? You welcomed the replacement right into your bed!" This man seemed to know more about your life than you would have ever thought.

Very few people knew your identity, Tim's, and Bruce's. You made sure that it was kept well under wraps so that cases like this would never have happened. No, this stranger was taunting you in the worst kinds of ways - your brother, and what he meant to you.

You always thought that you had done Jason's memory well - maybe not perfect but he wouldn't have been wanted to be remembered as the perfect son. He was brave, dauntless, he acted real and never caved into the posh society that the two of you were dragged into. Jason was human, and you made sure he was remembered that way.

Your jaw clenched and you swore that you face twitched in anger. Seeing red, you didn't notice that the man had picked up one of your previously thrown batarangs and threw it right into your shoulder. You cried out in pain and before you could retaliate, he was gone. You braced yourself for the pain and pulled out the metal just as Tim arrived on the rooftop with you.

"(Y/N)," Tim sighed in relief. He rushed over to you, pulling you into a tight hug. His hands cupped your face and without thinking, he kissed you. "I was so worried, you didn't answer and I heard the gunshot. I thought you were dead." You shook your head, still fazed by the interaction.

"He knew who I was," You voice trembled. You finally looked over at Tim. He saw the blood drip from your shoulder and pressed his hand into the wound to hopefully slow the bleeding. "He knew who Jason was. Tim, h-he... the things he said, he thought that I would have been a disappointment to him."

"You know that's bull," Tim promised you. You were too much of an emotional mess to even feel the pain coursing through your body. "Jason would be so proud of the person you've become. You've saved so many lives - he would be happy for you. We're going to find this guy, he'll get the justice he deserves."

"No," You shook your head. The anger that he had cast upon you only kept growing in your chest. No one, disrespected your brother's memory, ever. You were going to make sure of that. 

"I want him dead."

[curiousconch]

Fight or Flight

Chapter 13 of Ricochet (An Open Heart AU)

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Synopsis: Bryce and Heather both need to make major decisions as they face the final revelation about what truly transpired during Heather's kidnapping.

Pairing: Bryce Lahela x MC (Dr. Heather Song) ft. PLATONIC Ethan Ramsey

Words: 3.5k+ | Genre: Crime, Suspense/Thriller, Romance

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / language, hints of violence

Author's Notes: So this took too long to write, and frankly, I'm still reeling with it. I have long planned the conclusion of this series but I am still shocked with how I came up with this final twist. I do hope you forgive me for sitting on this for far too long. Life wasn't making it easier.

Also, disclaimer: Majority of the characters are owned by Pixelberry, except the main character Heather Song.

"You can't go back to the case, Lahela."

Bryce pounded his fists on his oak desk in frustration. He just came out of a meeting from Chief Tanaka, requesting for him to be assigned back on the Farrugia case.

Victim - prosecutor relations. Possible disbarrment. Termination. To sum it all up, his career will be in jeopardy.

These are the looming threats over Bryce's head if he didn't back off the case. Not that he had much choice. Now that his and Heather's faces were plastered across every Boston online article from the gala.

He couldn't help but to think that someone planned to stop his involvement in the case. Probably because that person knows he's doomed once Bryce works his way to untangle the web of conspiracies that transpired.

Resolved, the ADA swears to himself to get to the bottom of it before he lets this go. Sitting down, his mind ventures to Heather, wishing that her day back to Edenbrook was going much smoother than his was.

*** 

Unfortunately, before noon, Heather found herself in a supply closet.

It was proving more difficult to go back to normalcy after everything that has happened. Patients recognize her from the news coverage. Doctors, nurses, even half the staff was treating her like something fragile. Even the usually grumpy attending that was her boss wasn't trying to get on her toes today.

For Heather, it was incredibly disorienting.

But the probable reason behind how everyone was acting weird around her was that early morning incident.

While taking on an emergency case, she froze up. The last time she did was during her intern year. And that was for an entirely different reason. This time, her head blanked out because she thought she saw Ed Farrugia in that gurney. The slithering snake of a man he was. She couldn't move her fingers, nor speak because of the mixed emotions of her imagined vision.

Edenbrook was where it all began.

Luckily, Dr. Naveen was around to sub for her.

And thus began her slow downturn, reaching the tipping point in this condemned supply closet.

Eyes closed and breathing slowly, Heather struggled to free herself from the suffocation she was feeling. She loved Edenbrook, she loved working here. But now, why does she only feel dread the first day she again set foot on it?

Beep beep.

The sound of her pager momentarily freed her from her prodding mind. It was Ethan. He wanted to see her at Chief Banerji's office. Sighing deeply, she fixed herself and got out of the closet, wondering what this meeting might be about.

An elevator trip and a couple of minutes later, she knocked on Naveen's door and let herself in. Ethan Ramsey was already inside.

"You asked for me?" Heather said, closing the door behind her.

Her mentor and grand-mentor exchanged looks of concern before straightening up.

"Grand-protégé, have a seat," Chief Naveen gestured towards the comfortable chairs in front of her desk, where Ethan already took a seat on one.

She obliged, taking the seat opposite her boss. Dr. Ramsey didn't take long to speak right after.

"We know you've been through a lot recently Dr. Song and we-"

"Please don't put this delicately, Ethan. I can't get anymore fragile," Heather spoke up, demanding for both doctors to tell it to her straight.

"Of course, Heather." Ethan coughed, before sitting up in a more commanding posture.

"Johns Hopkins have offered a long-term position to the Cancer research partnership we have with them," Naveen said. "We both think it's in the best interest of you and Edenbrook to take the opportunity, given that it's your target specialization and -"

"It's not in Boston." Heather finished the sentence for him.

"Yes," Ethan nodded. "We don't want your career to be overshadowed by what has been going on. You have a lot of potential, and this would make you a forerunner in the advancement of cancer research."

"It's frankly what you can call it, hitting two birds with one stone," the eldest of the doctors added.

"How long will it be?" Heather asked, weighing it all in.

"A year, a year and a half, at least." Ethan replied.

"And what of my position in the diagnostics team?"

"You'll stay on to consult remotely, but your responsibilities will be diminished given that we want you to spend more time on the cancer research."

Heather swallowed hard. They're putting me into self-imposed exile.

Sensing her hesitation, Ethan reached out to her and patted her arm.

"We only want what we think is best for you Heather, so please at least give this some thought."

She met her mentors' gaze and nodded at them, before rising to stand up.

"I will think about it," she said, leaving the office.

*** 

Pulling all the strings he had left, Bryce Lahela stepped foot into the mansion of Massachusetts' prolific senator. Isolated by house arrest, thinking about Ed Farrugia made the young ADA's skin crawl.

As he walked the carpeted floors into a receiving room, he couldn't help but notice the select macabre portraits that showed war scenes hanging on the stuffy walls. Says alot about its owner, that's for sure.

The double doors he entered in opened, and a tall imposing figure in unflattering maroon satin robes came in. He looked a bit older, yet, somehow, more formidable.

"Ah, ADA Lahela. I see you are not backing down?"

Bryce almost snorted at his arrogance, immediately sensing the pretend machismo in his foe's tone.

"We'll see about that, Senator," the prosecutor replied politely. Didn't want to cross the point of no return before I had the answers I wanted.

"So, what does the young and promising prosecutor want from a disgraced politician today?" Ed sat down on one of the most pretentious armchairs Bryce has ever seen in his life.

"The truth," Bryce smiled cheekily, standing opposite the other man, matching his bravado.

The senator's response was to lean back on the too comfortable chair, crossing his legs.

"Well ADA Lahela, are you certain you are ready for the truth? It may get closer to home, more than you will ever think," Farrugia replied, a sinister grin masking his features which suddenly made Bryce feel queasy.

I don't like where this is going. He thought to himself, staying quiet.

"I thought so," Ed Farrugia nodded, watching the lawyer's stoic facade slowly crumble. "But to hell with it, it's just going to be fun to watch how you had a hand on all of what happened to your precious Doctor Song."

The former senator snapped, and in came a butler that carried a tray. In the tray was a white envelope, and a tumbler of what Bryce smelled as scotch. The politico grabbed the glass and sipped the rich liquid, neither offering Bryce any nor pouring him another glass. Instead, he reached for the white envelope and raised it to Bryce's level.

"Recognize the handwriting, young man?" Ed Farrugia was now sneering at him, expectant.

As Bryce's sight slowly trailed the cursive handwriting, he sensed the familiarity of the strokes. Ed Farrugia's name was written, but there was something about the way it was written.

When his eyes fell on the top left side, he recognized the insignia almost immediately, the hairs at the back of his neck standing up.

There it was, the name he tried to get away from since his adolescent life. Lahela. The logo of his parents' godforsaken company that duped so many families.

Bryce can only freeze in place, as the horror of the realization that his parents somehow had a hand in all of the things that happened to Heather slowly dawned on him.

"Heather Song was the doctor that saved my ass, ADA Lahela, so of course I didn't have the motive to hurt her, you know. She prevented my assassination, and I'm not an ungrateful hypocrite," Ed Farrugia began to explain. "But Heather knows this... I am not to shy away from people who can give what I want, what I need, you understand of course? You're a smart young man."

"So in exchange of a generous donation to my campaign, I am to concoct a plan that will mutually be beneficial to me and my donors," Farrugia continued. "My donors wish to teach you a lesson, make sure that you do not forget where you came from, remind you that no matter where you go, once a Lahela, always a Lahela."

"That's why we went with a warning first, remember? Get out of Boston, or else," the senator shook his head. "Your parents didn't think she'd be a good influence to you. Frankly, an orphan with an absentee father? She'd set you up for failure. At least that was what your parents thought."

"And of course, I wanted to gain something more with it, might as well do the work right? I had my kidnapping staged, that dashcam footage you received? That's from me so that you can arrive at the scene before I get killed by that amateur wannabe Jordan. What's in it for me was public sympathy - as the survivor of a second assassination attempt. Public sympathy equals votes. As simple as that."

Ed stood then, and padded his way to the nearest open window, before looking back at Bryce.

"I used my own enemy, the Travis Brothers, to deflect suspicion, of course. I also a used a middle man, someone who already wants payback from Dr. Song, someone with motive... So Declan Nash worked for me, in exchange of leniency in his role on Panacea's medicare fraud." He smirked, satisfied with the grandiose of his plan. "My only mistake was that I underestimated that ungrateful piece of crap though. Who would have thought he had the brains to record me?" his fist connected on the windowsill, startling Bryce.

"So you see, young man, everything that happened, is on you. No one is to be blamed more than you. All because of your ambition to become something you are not. Something you will never be, be apart from your family name."

Stunned into silence, Bryce can only gape at the senator. The turmoil within though, was unparalleled.

The anger that was boiling in him in the revelation that all this time, his parents was the cause of so much misery. Bryce's heart was so quenched of the discovery that he hasn't completely escaped them, nor their relentless hunger for taking control of his life.

His fists clenched, wanting nothing but to smash every single thing in that wretched room. He didn't care anymore.

What right do they have after putting him in so much pain? What do they even want to achieve? Do they want to make him crawl back to them as if nothing happened? Do they want the same pretentious respect that so many others had just for their mercy?

How does he even begin to explain all of this to Heather? That everything that went downhill for her was because of the person she loved? How can she accept him now? How can she love him now?

And as if on queue, Bryce's phone began to ring. When he saw the caller ID, he almost dropped it.

It rang once again. And he knew he had to take it.

"Bryce? Can we meet?" The voice from the other line was firm, but fragile.

He tried to level his voice, not wanting to have her worried. At least not now.

"Sure, babe. Where do you want to go?" Bryce replied, walking out of the mansion that was sucking the life out of him.

"In that cafe, where I bought you coffee that first day we met. Do you remember where?"

Bryce sensed the urgency in Heather's voice. Has she found out? He hoped not.

"Okay, what time?"

"I was hoping now. If you're done working, that is."

He was done. No reason to delay the inevitable.

"Okay, I'll drive there now. I'll see you."

With a heart heavier than it has ever been in his entire life, he drove down to where it all began, praying so much that it wouldn't be a trip to full circle.

***

Heather nervously sat by the glass wall of the Cafe, in a quiet corner. She already ordered two caramel macchiatos, the same drinks she and Bryce had the first day they met.

She rehearsed what she was about to say in her head, hoping that repetition will make it less taunting. Once she sensed Bryce, she waved him to the table and stood up.

He instantly saw her, and the load he was bearing suddenly become a little lighter. But the guilt was still there. The guilt of being the person to have caused much misery in her life.

But years of practice of showing everyone else the facade of his unbreakable confidence helped him hide what he was truly feeling at the moment, and instead smiled at her.

Her beaming return smile proved to be almost too much.

He reached out to her and intertwined his fingers with hers, almost nudging the cup of coffee in front of him.

"Hey, you remembered," Bryce was touched.

"Of course, it's probably the only thing you ordered during those meetings." Heather chuckled, brushing his cheek with her knuckles.

Her chuckle was lackluster, not her usual one full of wit.

"What's going on, Heath? It can't be that you just missed me," Bryce asked, straight to the point, hoping to dodge her intuitive powers of observation.

She sensed the edge in his voice, making her eyebrow quirk. Heather discerned it was best to ask him first.

"No, Bryce. What's up?"

For the second time that day, Bryce was stunned into silence. Heather's sharp perception of him was unimaginably accurate. And he knew he'd explode if he didn't tell her.

So he did.

From the denial and threats of Chief Tanaka, to his prodding, which led him to the heavy weight of the truth of Senator Ed Farrugia's admission. He didn't spare any detail.

Heather listened intently, trying to comprehend exactly what he was saying. She saw the guilt in Bryce's eyes when he told her that his parents set the wheels in motion, apparently for some sick and twisted lesson he needed to learn, like he was still under their supervision, under their control.

The more she heard, the more overwhelmed she got. But she didn't let go of the grip she had on Bryce's hands, reassuring him that she's there to not judge, but only hear out what he learned of the unnerving truth. And to acknowledge the strength of Bryce's character to not hold out the truth to her.

That was what she loved about Bryce. He was never one to back down from the truth, when it mattered. At least that's the case with her.

She has spent half the day pondering about her own decision. She took Bryce's position into account but she didn't expect this other factor to come into play.

If she stayed in Boston, she'd stay with him. And he won't be able to help her case. She knew Bryce, and he'll be unnerved not to be able to personally oversee it. And with this new discovery, he'd want to all the more take this case. This was personal. And Bryce wasn't one to back down against it. She's going to hold her back.

If she left... Well, Bryce would be able to take on the case.

Either way, she'll lose him. And the mere thought of it pained Heather to the core.

Bryce noticed Heather's lack of reply, the contemplative look in her face made him sense something was about to go south.

"What if there's a way, Bryce?" Heather finally spoke. "What if there's a chance for you to fight all this? Would you take it?"

"Heath, I don't think I want to know where this is heading..." Bryce stared at her, confused.

"Answer me first, Lahela. If I give you an out where all those hurdles goes out of your way, will you go through with it?" The intensity with which her eyes bore into his was unparalleled, yet rendering him clueless.

It took him a few moments before answering. Everytime he asked himself the same question, the answer was never different.

"Yes, Heath. I'll fight this to make sure those bastards can do you no more harm." his answer was firm, but as to her way, he still had reservations.

She nodded, her heart screaming not to do this. But she had to do it, else, everything her and Bryce will have between them will be diminished to nothing but resentment and guilt. With him claiming responsibility for his own parents' actions, yet unable to do anything about it. And Heather resentment, because she can't guarantee that a day won't come that she'll blame him.

They can't be together. Not until this is all resolved, not until they can leave everything behind.

Laying it down the line, Heather had to choose. She had to choose for both of them, even if it will surely hurt them both.

"Do you trust me, Bryce? Do you trust us?" Heather was firmly holding his hands, determined.

He nodded, despite himself. He feared what she was about to say, so he held his breath.

"So be it, Bryce. I'll give you an out. I'll give you what I think you need now,"

Bryce was afraid to ask the next question in his mind, but he did anyway, fuelled by Heather’s fire.

"What's the cost, Heath?"

"I'm leaving for Baltimore, Bryce," she said quietly, biting her lower lip, clearly putting in an effort to hold back tears. "I hope two years is enough for you to fight everything alone, because you'll have to. We both have to fight this separately, it seems."

Bryce's blood ran cold. No, no, no, no fucking way.

Seeing the panic in his eyes, Heather soothed him by brushing her fingertips on the back of his hand, sadness beginning to creep into her expression.

"It's the only way, Bryce, it's the only way..." she repeated, as if to convince herself rather than him.

"No, Heather, I can't lose you, not this time, not ever." Bryce's voice was pleading with her, yet he knew, deep down, that she was right. That this seemed to be the only way to fight all the remaining battles of their lives.

"If we concede now, Bryce, it would only break us. If we avoid this now, it will eventually haunt us and we'll succumb to it. We'll just end up hurting each other." She struggled to reassure him, but she pressed on.

"This way, we're not bowing down. We stand more of a chance to overcome this if you'll fight this. If, we will fight this." She rose from her seat to take the chair beside him. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders, comforting him. "We're merely carving our own way around it. It's not going to be easy, but I know we'll overcome... Because you're one hell of a prosecutor, Lahela. You're the best and you know it."

"How come you're the one who's so brave about this?" Bryce stared back at her, tears brimming in the corner of his eyes, aware that this may be their end.

"Because I believe so much in you, Bryce. Because you can do so much for this world more than how your parents defined you. You are your own person, and nothing can ever take that away from you," she paused, brushing the hair away from the beautiful amber eyes that gazed down at her. "Most importantly, because I love you so, so much. And what I can give you now, the love I have now in me, is less than what you deserve. I want to heal, for myself Bryce. I want to be whole again, so that I can give my 100%. When all of this is over, I'll come find you, that's a promise."

Bryce couldn't help himself anymore and pressed his lips against hers with fervent passion, knowing that this will be the last time in a long time before he can find her in his arms like this. Agreeing to this course of action, they bid their goodbyes, never as uncertain as they were about the decision they just made.

In less than a week, Heather left for Johns Hopkins, bidding goodbye to everyone except Bryce. Hoping the moment she stepped inside the plane, life would give her this chance to start over, to completely heal, to become whole again. Because Bryce Lahela deserved more than the fraction of what she could give. He deserved everything of her, no inhibitions, no limits, no holding back.

Bryce watched her go from a distance. He watched her plane took off from the ground, all the while concocting a plan to defeat the shadows of his past lurking around so that he could be with her again. Freely, completely and irreversibly.

That day, two open hearts chose to fight. Fight for the things that hung over their head so that it was no more. But in their decision to fight, they lost the comfort of each other.  They embarked on their separate paths with the promise of meeting again one day.

The path to the summit was often lonely. It is in their hopes however, that the moment they reach the end of this hard path they were in, they would no longer be alone anymore.

More than their willingness to overcome another hurdle in their way was their certainty to trust in each other, in the strength of their love for one another. In their endurance. In their hope.

For them, that was more than enough. It has to be enough.

Author's Notes 2: If you're reading this, I want to thank you so much for taking time to read this series. There's an epilogue in the final edits and I promise to tie the loose ends of this final chapter! Please do share your thoughts in the comments, I would really appreciate it!

Tags: @eleanorbloom @ejustlurkshere @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

[dreamingyouth]

[Darth Maul x Bookworm!Reader] Part 4 - Little things

Hello ! Are you new here ? Be sure to check the other parts below :

- Part 1

- Part 2

- Part 3

- Part 4 : You're here !

- Part 5

Words count : 2200

Warnings : none

Inspired by this lovely ask, thank you again anon ! ❤

You were never great with goodbyes.

The sky was clear, two fluffy clouds taking bets on which would be the fastest to reach the horizon under the warm autumn sun. The blue infinity above your head appeared to you like a never-ending sea. Would you ever be able to sail and explore the unknown lands? You couldn't know. At least, it left you dreamy; you found magic in how it changed color, azure blending gradually with soft shades of pink and orange as the day came to an end. The sight was incredibly beautiful and yet was only an introduction, waiting for the night to take over with its countless shining stars illuminating a dark blue, almost black canvas.

The trees around you seemed to be inspired by it, the bright green of their leaves slowly changing to a set of warm colors- yellow, orange, red, brown, every one of them pleasing the eye as if it was looking at a master's painting. They were full of life, though: the wind was playing with the branches and inviting the leaves in a joyful dance, some of them slowly falling to the ground in a last curtsey.

This was a setting you could admire forever without getting bored. You were lucky enough to live on a planet blessed with seasons, each of them lovely in their own way; but what you were most grateful for was the male in front of you, his hands gently holding yours while you kept your forehead against his. It became a little habit of yours to do this before parting every night: you would close your eyes and enjoy the silence around you, faces close enough to touch softly and let you appreciate each other's presence one last time.

At times you would exchange the sweetest kiss, at times a longing gaze would be enough; not once was it easy to part and leave, even though you both knew you would see each other again the following day. Sometimes you wanted to tell him how you desired to keep him by your side, not having to be separated even for just one night. Would he think of you as a clingy person? Would it bother him? He probably needed his space just like you did, maybe even had secrets you never knew of.

"Maul...

- Yes, angel?"

You smiled. Hushed whispers murmured against your lover's lips was something you treasured preciously, just as much as the charming nicknames he came up with from time to time. The intimacy you both shared bloomed from the smallest things: it was all in quiet words and little touches, thoughtful gifts, the warmth of a loving embrace. You felt lucky, not only to have this but to have this with him: to many, he might look scary or threatening, his appearance more the one of a devil than one of an angel. And yet... You somehow managed to bring out the softest side of him, one you guessed no one has ever seen before you. Probably no one would even think of him having such gentleness and care in his heart. His vulnerability was a secret you kept dearly, and it made you feel special.

"There's... this book that will be out tomorrow, and I wondered if you would accompany me to the bookstore. Maybe we could meet in front of it? And spend the day together?"

Your innocent request and your soft voice made him smile fondly, though you noticed a hint of playfulness in his eyes as he spoke.

"So, you're asking me out on dates now, hm?

- What? I- No, I just- I just thought it could be nice to spend time together-"

He chuckled. His question made you embarrassed, your face heating up a little as you tried to justify yourself, looking to the side. This caused you to involuntarily expose your neck to him, which he obviously noticed; and to cut your rambling, he placed a long, tender kiss on your skin, his strong arms wrapping around your waist to hold you close. It caught you by surprise and you stopped rambling, your fingers getting a hold of his dark clothes while he murmured in your ear.

"I never said it bothered me."

He was playing with you, and you both knew it. You didn't mind, though: it was a part of him you loved, after all, and you wouldn't exchange it for anything else in the galaxy.

"Oh..."

Your lips stretched with a smile, embarrassment leaving your face with every second passing by as it was replaced with nothing but affection for the Dathomirian. He lifted his head up to lock his intense gaze with yours, which you probably enjoyed for a little too long before moving again. Your digits slowly traveled up, leaving the soft fabric of his tunic to brush against the tattooed skin on his neck, tracing the intricate designs on their way up to his sharp jaw. You could feel him slightly shivering under your touch and imagined such a gentle contact was something he wasn't used to. Maybe he never experienced it at all- yet he allowed you, blindly trusting you as you explored higher, palms finally cupping his cheeks before pulling him into a sweet kiss.

"Meet me there, then... and don't be late!

- You're one to talk."

His words made you laugh. He never forgot.

After exchanging a few words over the last details, you reluctantly let go of him, hands sliding down his arms to his hands and holding them as long as you could before you had to part and go home. This would be the first time meeting him anywhere else than under your tree or at home. Not to mention, this was your first real date, too. This was new, and it would feel a bit scary if you went with anyone but him; but you trusted him as he trusted you, and quite honestly, it felt like you could face anything coming your way if Maul was by your side.

***

You had been expecting this moment since the second you woke up. You made sure you looked your absolute best: your favorite clothes on, your face washed and fresh, you checked once more your bag and found that, for the third time, everything you've been planning to take with you was there.

You were going on a date.

You were going on a date with Maul.

Your excitement and slight nervousness met as you glanced at the clock on your wall, begging the hands to move faster until they indicated the time you were waiting for to leave your home. You didn't waste more time, your bag thrown over your shoulder as you rushed to your front door; you locked in a heartbeat before running on the path leading to the nearest city, each of your steps leading you closer to the one you loved.

As you approached the street where you were supposed to meet, you stopped. Your chest rose and fell in a quick pace, betraying your excited rush; he couldn't see you like this. He would mock you again, wouldn't he?

After catching your breath, you finally turned the corner of the street and walked to the bookstore. You could see him waiting in front of it. As usual, he was there before you, which you noticed was something he liked; after all, not once did you have to wait for him to appear, except this one time when he returned with the sun setting.

"Looks like my date arrived."

He welcomed you with a little smirk, his playful remark bringing a smile to your face. His hood was up, covering his horns and toning down the red tattoos on his face; it didn't hide them though, and you were grateful you could still admire the symmetrical designs they traced on his skin. They fascinated you from day one.

"Sorry I kept you waiting!

- I arrived merely minutes ago. You don't have to apologize for anything."

His arms, previously crossed, moved as he took off one of his black gloves to reach for your face. Slowly caressing your cheek, he took a good look at you; and as much as you were embarrassed about him touching you so tenderly in public, you loved feeling his fingers on your skin and allowed yourself to get lost in his flaming eyes for a moment.

"You look lovely today."

The truth was, he wasn't used to giving compliments. He barely got any from his master, and never got the opportunity to do so himself; learning about the enemy -the Jedi- and training hard day after day left little time to socialize. Not that there was anyone to socialize with in the first place. It came almost naturally with you, however, and your happiness was enough of an excuse for him to try.

His hand slid down your arm to hold your hand, his grasp a little more possessive than usual now that there were people around. You both made your way into the bookstore; you knew it by heart now, and it wasn't long before you were standing in front of the right section. Your gaze moved along the spines of the numerous books available, looking for the one you wanted before spotting it on the highest shelf. Letting go of the Dathomirian's hand for a second, you stood on tip-toe, eager digits reaching out to try and catch the copy above your head; yet it was too high, and you were struggling.

"It seems like someone needs help, hm?

- Maul !"

You turned around, only to find your lover looking at you with an amused expression, his strong arms crossed over his chest. You couldn't come up with anything more to say. How could you? He was right.

He took some steps forward as his soft chuckle reached your ears, his warm hand settling on your waist before he pressed a kiss to your temple.

"It's alright to be short, love. It's cute on you."

You could tell these weren't words he used often, and it only made them more precious. Focused on the sweet encouragements he offered you, you didn't notice him reaching up to grab the book you were longing for until he gave it to you, another kiss landing on your forehead; only then you went to pay, Maul's arm still around your waist and holding you close. You sure were a strange pair: he was dark and intimidating, but you were happy and full of life. It seemed like the two of you weren't meant to get along at all, yet you did, and more closely than you would've ever expected.

"You were waiting for this for a long time."

It was an affirmation, not a question; given how he knew you by now, you weren't surprised in the slightest by him being so confident.

"Yes... I feel lucky we're able to get it here. I was afraid it would only be available on other planets, if I'm honest.

- You know I would've gotten it for you if you asked.

- I know... but I didn't want to bother you."

You looked up with a small smile, your gaze lingering on his red and black skin before meeting with his eyes. You were grateful to have him. You were aware of how some people changed their path not to cross his, aware of the wary looks he would get from others. But you... you knew. You knew there was more to him than scary appearances and threatening glares, you knew there was a well-hidden vulnerability waiting for the right person to come and reveal it.

And you were so glad to be this person.

"Let's go home."

His words brought you back to reality. Without saying anything, he paid for your book, adding a beautiful bookmark to it before leading you out. Not once did he let go of your hand, his steps fast but adjusted to your own speed.

"You didn't have to. I feel like you're spoiling me more than I deserve."

He stopped. You were out of the city by now and on your way back to your house, the comfort of being alone with your loved one enough to bring you warmth on this autumn afternoon. He turned to you, his fingers lacing with yours gently as he brought his free hand to your face.

"I don't. I'd give you the galaxy if you asked me to."

Your gaze softened, and a fond smile spread on your lips. There was no way you could deny how sincere he was, given how it was perfectly conveyed by his tender words; you moved closer, your own free hand mirroring his as it rested on his cheek- not before pushing his hood down, revealing his majestic crown of horns to you.

"I know."

Your voice down to a murmur, you tilted your head up to press your lips against his, the taste intoxicating and getting you more addicted as days went by. But how could this be wrong? He was yours.

"I love you, Maul."

And you were his.

--------------------------------------

I don’t know what to feel about this one. Some parts I like, others not so much... I was very busy this week and I’m visiting family this weekend, but I still wanted you to have this new part ❤ I hope you’ll still like it ! As always, if you like this series and want to be tagged for part 5, please let me know !

Tags : @maulieber​, @gooseyhouse​, @gczanetti1​, @noiralei​, @catsnkooks​, @brilliantbutbatty​, @mother-0f-monsters​, @farmelcarmel​

[colour-outside-the-liness]

Hi Colour! This is going to be a long one, so buckle up!

Oh wow, that's so precious! You've definitely earned the "real life Dani" nickname haha I wish I could find something meaningful like that to do with my life. I'm actually autistic and have ADHD so hearing you do this kind of work makes me really happy! Keep up the good work Ms. Clayton! 😁 Haha

You sound like a lot of fun to hang out with at pubs! Haha I'm glad you identify with that bit of info on your star placements. I had a lot of fun doing it too!

The thing about Hozier is that some of his lyrics are incredibly sapphic to me for some reason, I'm still trying to figure it out. NFWMB is one of the songs that feels like that to me. Don't know if you've heard it before but give it a try if you haven't. If you close your eyes it sounds like you're in an epic romantic story and there are swords, pretty gowns, and rooms lit by torches. Haha

The beginning of this song was inspired by a poem written by W.B Yeats called "The Second Coming" in 1920, and it talks about an apocalypse of sorts, alluding to all of the horrors men inflicted upon the world which ends up awakening this beast that goes to Jesus's place of birth in the Bible (Bethlehem) to be born. The last lines being:

"And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?"

So the song starts with:

"When I first saw you

The end was soon

To Bethlehem it slouched

And then, it must've caught a good look at you"

And oh boy do I think of Dani when I hear that. Especially bc of that scene where Viola accepts Dani's invitation to live inside her. And nobody knows why she accepts it (but I do!).

And yeah at first glance you might not think much of Dani. in the beginning she's just a tiny frail small-town girl with a lot of anxiety, running away from her past traumas. But she proves us wrong again and again and again. She moves to a country she's never been before entirely by herself, sees an opportunity, and doesn't let go of it even when it looks like it went wrong. Then is very loving and tender with these children who have gone through so much and are still going through so much. Tries to fight (with a fire poker!!) the threatening man that keeps harassing her, the children, and her friends. THEN manages to soften the angry, grumpy lesbian who's given up on people after A LOT of trauma (too much in my opinion) and doesn't give up on her when she rejects her either. Freaking exorcises her ex and makes him stop haunting her so she can be with the love of her life. And then finally as if all of that didn't make her the bravest hero in this story, she literally stops an apocalypse from happening and saves everyone from this beast by sacrificing herself without even thinking twice. Saves everyone that came before her and then the ones who'll come after for the rest of eternity. I mean the P-O-W-E-R this girl has. 💪 so hell yeah the lady in the lake wanted to take her.

When Hozier says:

"Ain't it a gentle sound, the rollin' in the graves?

Ain't it like thunder under earth, the sound it makes?

Ain't it exciting you, the rumble where you lay?

Ain't you my baby? ain't you my baby?"

I can only think of Dani at the bottom of the lake laying on top of all the bones of the people Viola killed and how she's at peace living forever in a dark place like that. That's kinda hardcore y'know?

After the first verses, Hozier goes on to talk abt his lover, someone so utterly terrifying even the beast of the end of the world can't stand to look at them. But this song is also about being proud to be this person's lover bc nothing can fuck with them, not bc you are there to protect them and wouldn't let anyone harm them, but bc they're more than capable of protecting themselves and you too. So in my head, this song is Jamie's declaration of love to Dani.

And then I think of Jamie's devotion to Dani when she said "If you can't feel anything, then I'll feel everything for the both of us." shown in this verse:

"If I was born as a blackthorn tree

I'd wanna be felled by you

Held by you

Fuel the pyre of your enemies"

And the fact that she took what she could get just to be with Dani. She knew she'd have to suffer for/bc of her at some point, but chose to be with her anyway. I have no doubts in my mind she'd want to be anything for her as long as they could be together in any way, shape, or form. In all the lives they happened to meet one another too.

Wouldn't it be cool to see them in an AU where Dani is like a medieval princess who's supposed to marry Edmund to form an alliance between kingdoms or something and Jamie is an assassin who is hired to kill the princess so she has to pretend to be Dani's personal guard or wtever but they fall in love and run away together and Jamie teaches her how to fight so Dani becomes this warrior but turns out Dani is naturally good at it and then she becomes a legend? Hahaha I can see her riding a horse in the winter with paint on her face and her blonde hair falling over this fur-lined cloak, fierce look on her face, and Jamie riding next to her (always). Then they come across Viola who's a witch and puts a curse on Dani and then Dani and Jamie have to travel to all sorts of places and fight all sorts of people and go on this whole adventure to rid Dani of this curse. Maybe Dani has to go back to her kingdom bc her father dies and there are other people trying to take her kingdom so there's a lot of angst and suffering but then they win at the end after a lot of sweat and tears and they live happily ever after! 😎Hahaha

Anyway, I hope you're having a great week so far and hope you had fun with your niece today! (I know if I was her and you had us make fudge and paint I'd worship you haha) I'm sorry for the very (very) long ask, but I've been obsessing over this idea for months and I just had to share it with someone! ✌️✨

(And you can call me Libby or wtever since I'm not anon anymore 🤗)

Awwh thank you so much for saying I have earned my 'real life Dani' title is means a lot to me that you guys see that in me!! I am sure you do so many meaningful things in life without even realising it!! I honestly just want to make a difference and I love helping people so going into a career like this just seemed so natural to me and I really do love what I do!! Thank you so much I really hope I can keep up the good work!! I hope I'm a lot of fun- I know I have helped win a few pub quizzes and there's been a few times I've won games of trivial pursuit as well so that really did make so much sense to me and learning about all the placements of my chart was so much fun and was so interesting so thank you very much!! I have heard some of Hozier's lyrics are quite sapphic and I always mean to look into more of his songs and then just never do but I will definitely look in to NFWMB because the lyrics you have sent me here are incredible and definitely give of Dani x Jamie vibes I definitely agree with you in everything you have said about why Viola accepted Dani's invitation- Dani and Viola are similar in some ways and this was something I was explaining to my niece when she watched it with me. I explained to her that both Viola and Dani are strong willed, and stubborn, and would do anything to fiercely protect the people they care about. We saw that time and time again with Dani, how within days of knowing Miles and Flora she was out with a fire poker trying to protect them from a strange man that she kept seeing around the manor. And how Viola would've done anything to protect her daughter. One major difference between them though is that Viola seemed to have a slight selfish streak where as Dani is entirely selfless, she was selfless for the longest time in even agreeing to marry Eddie so she wouldn't hurt him, she was selfless in protecting Miles and Flora, and even more selfless in saving Flora's life and freeing all the trapped spirits of Bly Manor and then she is selfless in the fact that she won't drag anyone down and won't hurt anyone else at Bly ever again. The one thing she did for herself was being with Jamie- and she was able to make Jamie open up and trust people in way she probably hadn't for the longest time. Dani is a truly strong person as was Viola and I can see why she would accept Dani's invitation. I will have to listen to this song to see it from a Jamie perspective which I will definitely do tomorrow but from the lyrics you have sent me I can definitely see it being a love declaration to Dani from Jamie. Jamie knew in the end she would suffer because she knew she wouldn't be able to keep Dani forever, and knew that one day she would have to leave her- but she knew loving Dani for as long as she was allowed to would be worth that pain in the end and Jamie is a truly strong person as well for knowing this and staying by Dani's side anyway when that must have been such a hard thing for Jamie to ever have to accept. Jamie would've been anything for Dani and would've one anything for her as Dani would've for Jamie and that's why I love them so much. They loved each other so purely and without conditions and so wholeheartedly and it really was such a lovely thing to watch play out in front of us (even if it did hurt us all at the end). I think it would be so cool to see an AU like that I think medieval stuff is always so fun and so interesting and a good enemies to lovers start never fails either because there's so much tension there between them. And Jamie being undercover as someone to get close to Dani and them slowly falling in love with each other would just be a great thing to see!! And I am all for warrior Dani and Jamie (women with weapons is a little bit of a weakness of mine)!! This whole AU just sounds incredible I love a good curse in fantasy stories and the curse slowly taking over and you thinking they're going to run out of time but everything works out in the end!! Dani going back to her kingdom because of her sick Dad dying would be great for angst because it would look

like she would have to marry someone to create an alliance and that she would have to take over a kingdom (perhaps something she never wanted to do in the first place)!! I think this could be a very angsty one shot and could be so interesting and fun and the happy ending would definitely make all the angst worth it in the end!! I am having a good week so far thank you and I had so much fun with my niece today, making fudge went great and she was happy that I was able to show her how to do it because she'd never made it before so now that's something she knows how to do (I think she thinks I'm way cooler than I actually am haha thank you for saying you'd worship me though if you were my niece haha 😂) but tomorrow she is teaching me how to do something because I taught her how to make fudge today... she's gonna teach me how to draw in an anime style- which is something she is really into and even though I'm not she loves drawing so I've asked if she can teach me since I taught her something today!! There's no need to apologise I loved this long angst and I loved this idea I think it's really great and interesting and that song just seems amazing and I am definitely gonna listen to it tomorrow when I get chance!! Thank you for sharing this idea with me I loved it!! ☺️ Haha oki doki then as long as that's alright with you Libby is what I'll call you!! Like I said you can seriously call me anything!! ☺️